


Bones of the Faded Trees

by quinnlocke



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Found Family, Gen, Ghosts, Haunting, Illness and Injury, Memory Alteration, Nightmares, Past Character Death, Possession, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-05-01 18:46:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14526852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnlocke/pseuds/quinnlocke
Summary: The Satori Woods are dying, but that’s not Goshiki’s concern. He’s much more focused on the nightmares he’s suffered from since coming to the Shiratorizawa lands as part of Lord Ushijima’s retinue.Night after night, Goshiki walks into the woods in his dreams, only to lose his heart to a mysterious figure. When Shirabu taunts him, claiming he’s afraid of the woods, Goshiki has no choice but to prove him wrong. For every answer he finds, however, two new questions arise…





	1. Come With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic would not exist without three people: Rosa, Snow and Cas. My eternal thanks to all three of you for the support, edits, ideas, and sometimes just letting me talk your ear off about the same scene over and over again.

Once Upon a Time, in the Kingdom of Miyagi—for all good stories begin here— there Lived a Boy who wanted to be a Hero...

And this story begins with a dream.

_“Come with me into the trees. We'll lay on the grass, and let the hours pass.“_

"Where am I?"

_“Take my hand, come back to my land. Let's get away, just for one day.“_

"Who are you?"

_A skeletal hand reaches towards him and plunges into his chest. “Let me see you stripped down to the bone,“ sings that soft and sad voice, all the coaxing and hesitant joy stripped away. He can't move, can't scream, and the only sound left in the world is his heart beat as the hand pulls it free, bloody and warm._

_His breath turns to ice in his chest at the sight. He closes his eyes until the slow and steady pulse fades into nothing._

***

Tsutomu woke with a start and bit back a scream. He grabbed his chest, heart pounding, and sucked in a deep breath to try and calm himself down. The last thing he wanted was for Shirabu, or worse, Ushijima waking up because he'd had the nightmare... _again_.

Nearly three months had passed since their arrival in Shira village, and almost every night he'd suffered from a nightmare about the forest that surrounded the humble town.

Every dream inevitably began with a voice singing to him, drawing him deeper and deeper into the forest with that enchanting melody he couldn't hope to escape, although some nightmares ended more horribly than others. Some nights the song ended without the apparition appearing and he awoke only feeling as though his grave had been walked over. Some nights he hesitated before venturing in and would abruptly wake up with a start, the song still ringing in his ears, and left unable to sleep for the rest of the night.

But tonight, like so many nights, he'd followed the voice all the way to the heart of the forest, where he'd met his end as his heart was ripped from his chest.

The first time he'd woken up screaming so loud he'd woken the entire household. Shirabu's fury had been ardent as he threatened to make Tsutomu sleep in the stables if he couldn't keep from reacting like a child faced with a nonsensical fright. Reon, far less prone to temperamental outbursts, had given him a special tea intended to promote dreamless sleep after the third time Tsutomu had awakened the household with his distress, but Tsutomu had stopped using it after he'd fallen asleep grooming one of the horses and was nearly kicked in the face.

That had left Tsutomu nothing to do except endure, and hope that he could strangle his cries before he awakened anyone.

Taichi rolled over in his sleep, mumbling to himself, and the normalcy of it made Tsutomu smile reflexively, wiping at his damp cheeks. It was just a nightmare, in the end, and Tsutomu refused to be cowed by it.

The sound of his steady breathing calmed Tsutomu enough that he felt he might be able to go back to sleep this time, even with the moonlight streaming in through the windows and painting everything in the room in shades of silvered black. If he stood and looked outside, he knew what he'd see: the wide expanse of the forest, too quiet and calm to be host to such ridiculous nightmares. He let himself breathe in time with his friend and closed his eyes.

_“Stripped down to the bone...“_

***

"I had the dream again last night," Tsutomu announced over breakfast. "This time it got me. I walked all the way to the center of the woods. I asked the questions like Reon told me to, but it still got me."

Taichi tilted his head to the side and swallowed the rice porridge he always ate for breakfast. "Still just the hand? You didn't see anything else of the creature?"

"Yes," he agreed, holding his own up and wiggling his fingers in Taichi's face. "With creepy twig fingers."

"So I have twigs to blame for my lack of sleep last night?" Shirabu asked, voice tinged with annoyance as it always was when he addressed Tsutomu. He entered the dining room and nodded to Taichi before seating himself to the right of the head of the table. In the five years since Tsutomu had been taken in as Ushijima's ward, Shirabu had had nothing but curt and terse words for him. It was even worse now that Tsutomu was having night terrors.

Shirabu's scathing comment made Tsutomu whither, but only for a few seconds before he clarified, "Twigs that reach into my chest and rip my heart out!" while holding a hand to his chest to demonstrate. Taichi elbowed him, but Tsutomu only belatedly realized he should have remained quiet.

Tsutomu rarely displayed any sort of fear response, which was as much to his honor as his detriment. Ushijima claimed he had a commander's heart and was braver than many men he'd known. Shirabu whispered under his breath that Tsutomu was just too stupid to be scared.

"You should start drinking the tea Reon made for you again so we can all sleep through the night," Shirabu informed him, spooning honey into his tea. "You think you're being quiet when you bite back your screams but _I_ still hear it, and unlike you I am not able to just go right back to sleep."

"That tea makes me too drowsy to get through the day," Tsutomu complained, his voice talking on a whine he knew he was too old for. It wasn't fair. Shirabu was always looking for a reason to chastise him, or embarass him in front of the others.

"What's going on?" Ushijima's voice boomed through the dining room, commanding the attention of everyone at the table. "The sun has been up for only two hours and you are already arguing."

"My apologies, Lord Ushijima," Shirabu answered, head bowed. "Goshiki had another night terror. I was awoken by it and had difficulty going back to sleep. I was simply reminding him that Reon provided him with a tea for dreamless sleep."

"Tsutomu has told us many times that Reon's tea affects him the next day and prevents his ability to work safely," Ushijima replied with his usual graveness. "Reon is attempting to determine the cause. Unfortunately, that means often experimenting on himself. I see no reason to force both of them to be drowsy." He leaned forward, brow furrowed but tone solicitous. "Do you require rest today? I can ask Yamagata to assist me with the drafts instead."

"I will be fine!" Shirabu insisted, voice high. "I do not require a _nap_ , sir. I will be prepared to help with the draft proposals today. Yamagata can continue to work on the letters for the other villages, as planned. Please do not concern yourself with my health." He bowed deeply, turning slightly so he could glare at Tsutomu from the corner of his eye.

That was all the incentive Tsutomu needed to exit from the table with a hasty bow to Ushijima and a mumbled explanation about getting to work, even though he had none. Before he could disappear, however, his wrist was grabbed and he looked up into Ushijima's stern eyes.

"Are the dreams causing you distress?" he asked, and though his tone conveyed no warmth, the question was one of genuine concern. Tsutomu had learned that Ushijima was not a man who wasted his time or his words. He meant what he said and only asked what he wished to know. "They started after we arrived. That is unusual. Perhaps you should stop going into the village. I think the stories you are hearing might be prompting these unnecessary fears."

"No!" Tsutomu yelped and then tried to calm his voice, to sound worthy of the trust and responsibility Ushijima had placed in him by allowing him the freedom to roam. "There's no need. I will be fine, sir. I'm only scared in the dreams, never out of them, and none of the stories have anything to do with what I'm seeing in my nightmares, anyways."

Ushijima nodded, content with his answer, before dismissing him.

Tsutomu made his escape before Ushijima or anyone else could ask him questions and flopped down onto his bed, briefly considering returning to sleep if only because it would annoy Shirabu. He didn't want to waste his free day annoying Shirabu, though— well at least not by taking the nap Shirabu had denied himself based on his own pride.

Tsutomu stared out the window at the forest again, but for once his thoughts weren't on his dreams, but on the beautiful landscape before him. His mother would have loved such a wild expanse that reminded her of her village roots despite her life in the city, and his throat suddenly felt tight knowing she'd never see it, and that with her death, he'd lost the last of his family.

Tsutomu's only knowledge of his father had been that his name was Tsutomu, and that he'd been named for him. He'd been Ushijima's ward for the last five years, and while he admired Ushijima greatly, sometimes he wished for the life he'd lived as the child of a respected healer and witch, who was permitted to roam Seijoh City at his whim - so long as he completed his chores, of course.

Tsutomu palmed his chest and felt for the locket he kept around his neck, rubbing the simple lotus etched on one side. He didn't dare open it, though, lest the lock of jet black hair and a portrait of his mother somehow come to harm.

Five years later, he missed her as much as ever. Her wisdom might have explained why the forest haunted him, why it filled his mind with fear in his nightmares that somehow never truly carried over into waking. She might have explained why Shirabu hated him so much, why Ushijima expressed concern for him in the coldest of ways.

He also wanted to talk to her about his life and his friends. How Reon had sat at his bedside for three nights when a nearly lethal fever overtook him at twelve and offered kind reassurances even when Tsutomu cried for his mother, two years in the grave. Once he was well, Reon told Tsutomu that he felt like one of his brothers lay in the bed sweating from a mysterious sickness and he could not bear to see it take him.

He wanted to tell her about Taichi, who'd dreamt of being a soldier until falling from a horse and suffering from broken ribs that had left him housebound for a month, where he discovered a new passion. He regularly took lessons with Shirabu and Yamagata and would someday be presented to the king as a future diplomat. Yamagata was Shirabu's apprentice, in only a few short years he would leave them and become a steward to a lord or commander, as Shirabu was to Ushijima.

The Ushijima household was full of stories and Tsutomu had no one to share them with.

A cool breeze came through the window, washing over him, and he shivered as his skin broke out into goosebumps. The manor that Ushijima made his home sat on a hill overlooking Shira village and was prone to fiercer winds than the surrounding lands. The Satori woods, with its patches of bone white trees and black leaves, taunted him, reminding him of that almost twig-like hand that so easily pressed inside his chest. He looked away from it and instead focused his sight towards the castle on the hill.

From this distance it didn't look like a long abandoned fortress. Instead it looked as it might have a century earlier, when Lord Washijou was still in residence, before he started the Traitor's War. Some in Shira village still whispered about the castle being haunted by the men who died in the battle, but Ushijima and Shirabu scoffed at all the stories of haunted woods and castles.

"The castle stands as a reminder to those who would think to betray the king. If it _is_ haunted, it is haunted by the pride of the man who dared step higher than he was permitted by birth," Shirabu had said when Tsutomu asked. "King Oikawa giving the lands of the Shiratorizawa territory to Lord Ushijima is a great blessing and honor. It has not had a lord for a hundred years and it shows that the king believes Lord Ushijima is the worthy man to rebuild the land."

According to Soekawa, however, the 'gift' was meant to be a reminder to Ushijima that he was still out of favor.

"Shiratorizawa has been an unclaimed and poorly cared for territory for a century," Soekawa had explained with a shrug, his milk white eyes staring at nothing. Loyal though he may be, he was also pragmatic. "True, Lord Ushijima is likely the only one of King Oikawa's court who could unite it and make it flourish again. However, the King still remembers a time when Lord Ushijima defied and embarrassed him, and he's likely setting him up to fail." Soekawa had smiled. He was Ushijima's personal healer and had known him from the day he had assisted with his birth. "Our lord won't, of course, but even so."

That was as much of the story as anyone would tell him about the history of their lord and the king, of course, but Tsutomu had heard the rumors, just like everyone else. He didn't understand all the secrecy— Ushijima should be lauded as a hero, for the way he'd protected the only son of the Kageyama family from the jealous and vengeful prince, but no one discussed it. Tsutomu found himself daydreaming about what might have happened: Ushijima, on a white horse, scooping the child out of harm's way. Or perhaps he'd interceded and caught the foolish prince's blade on his own before he could strike and they'd engaged in a duel.

Thinking about sparring and jousts made Tsutomu restless in short order, however, and he decided a trip into the village was needed. There were a few boys close to his age he could sometimes convince to engage with him, though it had taken a while to convince them they were allowed to talk to him. While the nobility knew he was a low born boy, the peasantry saw him as the ward of a high ranking commander and now lord of their lands.

Tsutomu was neither, truthfully, and so more often than not spent his time alone.

He dressed quickly and after belting on his dagger he threw open his bedroom door and walked straight into Shirabu.

"Fucking hell, Goshiki!" he exclaimed as the papers he'd been carrying scattered.

"I'm sorry!" Tsutomu yelled, scrambling to help pick them up.

"Stop no, they were in order and—" Shirabu huffed and grabbed Tsutomu by the back of his jerkin and hauled him up, icy rage suddenly spiking in his face. "Don't touch those, you're _useless_. If you have the energy to go darting about the halls while people are trying to work, expend a little of that energy on resolving your nightmares. I _cannot_ take the sleepless nights, do you understand me?" He shoved Tsutomu away and returned to picking up the papers.

Tsutomu nodded, a pit of shame opening in his stomach. Shirabu had never been physical with him before. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just fix it!" Shirabu said through gritted teeth. "You cause enough trouble for Ushijima and the rest of this household with your existence. The least you can do is remove one of those troubles. Find some way to stop these ridiculous night terrors. Go into the woods and teach yourself there is nothing there but a bunch of dead trees, understand? That's all that is there. _Dead trees._ "

***

Tsutomu hesitated at the edge of the forest and looked back towards the manor. Ushijima would be furious if he knew Tsutomu was headed for the woods alone. He rarely let Tsutomu wander too far on his own, pointing out that Tsutomu was still only fifteen and might get into trouble of one sort or another. Even the village had areas he was told to stay away from unless accompanied by someone. But he couldn't help but let Shirabu's instructions drive him. Perhaps he'd somehow let the mystery of the woods affect him, despite his many declarations that they didn't concern him in the least. Three months, and Tsutomu never once attempted to venture in— he hadn't even pestered Ushijima and Soekawa about their investigation into the unnatural decay of the trees.

He'd felt uneasy first laying eyes on the woods. It was the barrier between Shira village and the Karasuno countryside and no one had ever used it as a means to cross between the territories. Although they were both a part of the Miyagi kingdom, the Satori woods were older than any mere country, and the people that lived outside the woods respected that. Instead, they crossed at the river that divided the two territories, a mere half-day journey north, always relying on the road.

Especially not now, with its ever growing patches of decay. He heard Soekawa once say that when he lived in the village as a young man the forest was lush and beautiful. He seemed sad as Reon described the problems to him when they rode into the village. He'd asked where the areas of decay were most prominent and they'd gotten into a detailed technical discussion involving maps and growth rates, but Tsutomu had stopped listening at that point and just stared at the strange forest, wondering what could make trees turn white.

Tsutomu took a deep breath and crossed the tree line, exhaling only once he'd passed into the forest. He stopped to look back at the manor one last time before squaring his shoulders and venturing forth, determined to face whatever it was that plagued his sleep.

It was silent.

There were no birds, bugs, or any other little creatures scampering about. Every leaf and twig that cracked and snapped under his feet echoed around him. The bark on the trees crumbled when he touched it, and underneath the wood was white as bone. His skin prickled, and despite his headstrong, fearless ways, it took even him a moment to screw up his courage and keep pushing forward.

He looked up and caught a falling leaf, which turned to little more than black dust on his fingers. All around him the trees were painted in shades of black, grey and white. Not even the ground had color, the dirt a somber grey.

Tsutomu pulled out his dagger and knelt down to dig into the dirt, to see if underneath the ash and filth, the soil was still viable. He sifted the dead dirt between his fingers, cringing at the terrible smell that emanated from it. Tsutomu recognized that smell. Every person who came to his mother for healing that had smelled like that had been beyond hope.

After all, no matter how powerful the healer, death came for them all.

They'd been careful to never let anyone know they could smell death. Tsutomu's mother warned many would not take the news well. She commanded Tsutomu's absolute obedience so rarely that when she did, he listened. Instead he would help his mother prepare draughts for sleep and allow them at least the chance to pass on quietly, all while trying to ignore the occasional whispers from their neighbors.

He brushed the dirt from his hands and cleaned them with a bit of water from his skin, unnerved by the stench of death all around him. It reminded him of when his mother began to smell of it, just days before Ushijima had come with news of his father's passing - a father Tsutomu hadn't even known existed, and a mother who had refused to speak of him before dying herself.

Tsutomu stood amidst the dead and dying trees and pulled out the locket, raising it to his lips as though it would serve as a talisman of protection against whatever haunted these woods.

For they _were_ haunted, and all of Tsutomu's attempts to ignore the eeriness of the woods since his arrival crashed into him all at once.

His chest tightened and a chill ran down his spine. He turned towards the direction the sensation came from and found that the coldness now pressed to his chest. Curious despite the pounding of his heart, he took a few steps forward and the chill seemed to minutely increase.

Within moments, Tsutomu was striding through the forest, following the flow of ice against his skin, and although he was vaguely afraid he couldn't help but push on. He was once more reminded of Shirabu's scathing opinion about his fearlessness and made a face.

Nothing Tsutomu did was ever going to be good enough for him. He always had a cruel complaint or a snide comment. Reon explained that Shirabu was steward by virtue of birth; his father had been steward to a lord, and so Shirabu was made a steward to the lord's son. So it would go on, with Shirabu's children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren serving the Ushijima family until they at long last passed out of this world.

And Tsutomu? He was a nobody; his children would have comparatively little. They would have no certainty of lineage or household the way Shirabu's family would, and it constantly rubbed against Tsutomu's skin and left him raw. He didn't even necessarily want the comforts Shirabu's position offered him. He merely wished to be sure that, yes, he and his would have their place in the world, safe to love and be loved.

What a strange thought to have, in the center of all this death.

A gale suddenly whisked past him, bringing with it the smell of something fresh and earth. The smell of life. He stopped and surveyed the trees surrounding him. The bark was strong and didn't chip away like that of the trees he'd investigated earlier. He didn't even bother pulling out his knife either, just tore his hands into the soil and brought a bit up to his nose. Good soil, which smelled like earth and his mother's flower garden.

He inhaled deeply and smiled, adoring the feeling of fresh earth between his fingers and healthy trees thriving around him. He'd known he'd eventually find where the sickness ended and the forest came alive again, and with that, the lingering traces of fear disappeared. A disease, then, and not some magical nonsense as the villagers claimed. As he listened for the telltale sounds of birds chirping in the upper branches, however, he was met with the same still silence that had surrounded him when he'd ventured through the dying trees.

Frowning in confusion, he spotted another odd patch of bone white trees in the distance and he ventured further, curious. He put his hand on the bark of one and jumped back when he realized it was completely smooth despite the appearance of texture on the surface. An eye looked at him from between pieces of bark, he yelped and nearly tumbled over his feet in surprise, realizing as he gestured wildly that it was pieces of his own reflection staring back at him. His face, shattered and broken, looked back at him; every bit of bark was actually a piece of mirrored glass, reflecting the world that surrounded them.

"What in the _world_ ," Tsutomu breathed, stunned and intrigued. Perhaps this was magic after all, and he carefully picked out his path through the unusual trees until he found himself in a clearing. All around sunbeams peeked through the leaves and reflected off the mirrored bark, bathing the entire area in golden light.

Spying a hut across the clearing, Tsutomu stepped forward, only to find his foot stuck. He'd somehow gotten his foot caught in a...

His breath caught as he realized what held his foot was not a root or even some bush. It was a _hand_ wrapped around his ankle, a hand much like the one he'd seen in his dreams. His spine went cold as he realized there was a presence behind him - and, _oh,_ Tsutomu could not run despite his instincts clamoring for him to escape. He could not, would not, run away while he might find answers. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and another snaked its way across his chest to lay over his heart.

_A withered hand made of twigs, plunging into his heart -_

He grabbed the hand and shoved it away, flipping boldly around to face whatever apparition had come to claim him. He choked on a war cry at the creature standing before him, shock and disbelief and _awe_ filling his voice.

A gaunt figure stood before him, skin white as the trees under the dead bark. His long face was composed of dark shadows and sharp angles, lips parted to reveal sharp teeth. Flaming red hair crowned his head, bare and brittle branches grew from the sides of his skull, like antlers. The only thing that looked alive about him were his bright red eyes, which stared at Tsutomu full of wonder.

"Where is your fear?" he asked.


	2. Into the Trees

“Where is your fear?”

The first, stupid thought that shot through Tsutomu’s mind was, _What does that mean_? The second, arguably more intelligent thought was, _RUN!_

Even then, however, it wasn’t fear that drove him to escape; but the warning he’d been told many times throughout his life. 

_Do not engage with the fae._

Only fools dallied with the fae, for there was no guarantee how an encounter might go. They were mysterious in their mannerisms and without a clear guide on how to handle them, avoidance was the key to survival. Many a mortal had found themselves bound to a fae, or within their thrall, having hardly said a word to them. Such was their custom.

Tsutomu wished for too much to die here, let alone be caught in a faes clutches.

And so he ran, sprinting through the mirrored trees and into the forest proper, gasping for breath as he tried to retrace his steps. A fae. A _fae_ lived at the center of the forest.

Tsutomu understood now what was causing the strange decay. From a single glance it had been obvious that the fae was dying. The hollow cheeks and brittle branches growing from its head indicated as much. As Tsutomu kept running, he wracked his thoughts for the lessons his mother had taught him regarding them, dimly remembering the lessons about guardians.

A fae guardian was both a blessing and a curse to the place in which they made their home. A forest, a waterfall, an open plain - it mattered not. The fae would tie themselves to the land and receive its power and act as its protector as necessary. Should the fae sicken, however - well. The land could not remain healthy. And so it was here in the Satori forest: what parts were still alive were obviously full of lush beauty and health, resistant to human interference. But, when the fae died it would take those patches of decayed trees with it. There would be no saving them.

That thought only made him run faster.

The instant he crossed the tree line, he collapsed, gasping for air as he struggled to catch his breath. Tsutomu whimpered as his hands sunk into the earth and he began to once again smell the horrible decay. Sitting sat back on his haunches, he chanced a glance over his shoulder.

Behind him the dead trees swayed in the wind, but no gaunt figures came bursting through them. He waited a few more breaths, hand hovering near his dagger ready to arm himself at the slightest sound of a crashing branch or snapped twig. He’d wandered accidentally into its domain, and it had sensed his fear somehow, had invaded his dreams, and he had no idea how. His heart pounded as he stared into the darkness of the woods, barely daring to breathe.

He ducked when a flash of black flew out of the woods at him, cawing loudly. A crow. He glared at the bird as it came to perch on the grave of one of the manors’ previous holders. He was still breathing hard, but the realization that the crow had landed on a headstone made Tsutomu jump to his feet. Tsutomu looked around him and realized he’d come out of the woods right on top of the old cemetery, not where he’d entered the woods. He scrambled to leave, knowing better than to continue to disturb the dead. 

As he hurried home, Tsutomu decided he would keep quiet about what he’d seen in the woods. It would do no one any good to find out he’d been wandering out there. Ushijima would be furious with both him _and_ Shirabu if the truth was revealed, which meant Shirabu would transfer to Tsutomu, making his lot even worse. He had little desire to deal with either of them. His only pleasant thought was that perhaps, now that he had learned the truth of what was in the forest, he would no longer be plagued by the dreams of its mysteries, or of the guardian at its heart.

_A hand, withered and twig-like, plunged into his chest…_

Shaking that thought away, Tsutomu focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

***

_“Tsutomu.”_

_“Mama!” Tsutomu wraps his arms around her and sighs at the smell of honeysuckle, the feel of warmth and love. “I missed you.”_

_“Missed me, darling? Where did I go?” she asks, running her fingers through his hair._

_“You died.” The words hurt to speak, and he presses his face even harder to her, like that might shield him from the weight of that phrase._

_“Oh, you silly child. I didn’t die.” Her laugh is cold and sends a shiver through him. She’d never sounded like that, not once. “You just forgot me.”_

_“No!” he insists, sick fear growing inside him. “No, I could never forget you. Ever!”_

_“Oh, but you did. You were so busy running away you left me behind. Now what will I do?” His mother tuts at him, sounding cruel and disappointed. “How could you do that to me?”_

_“Mama?” Tsutomu finally looks at her, desperate to defend himself and screams at the sight in front of him._

_Blood drips from his mother’s mouth as she struggles to breathe. There’s a hole in her chest and she drops to the ground, revealing the fae of the woods, standing with her still beating heart in his hand._

_“Where is your fear?”_

***

“Mama!” Tsutomu shrieked, sitting up in bed, gasping for breath and clawing at his chest. His panicked screaming turned to whimpering sobs as his hands came up empty. The locket, his only connection to his mother, was gone. “No, Mama, _no_!”

The door burst open and Shirabu came charging in, candle in hand, face red with anger. “What is the meaning of this?!”

“I lost her,” Tsutomu sobbed, still grasping with both hands at his chest. “I lost Mama!”

“It’s been five years, you insufferable--”

Shirabu’s rant was cut off as Reon barged in and shoved him into a wall, the candle dropping to the ground. Shirabu cried out, head hitting the wall hard and he caught himself poorly, holding his arm to his chest. Taichi had awoken from the ruckus as well and hardly dared to breath, eyes flickering between Shirabu and Reon “Get out.”

Shirabu straightened slowly, expression vicious and voice seething with rage. “How _dare_ you? ”

“I told you,” Reon’s said, snarling in a way Tsutomu had never heard from him before. “Get. Out. Your temper is not needed here. He is a child, and you are bullying him for no reason other than your own spite. I _will not have it_.”

Shirabu gaped, eyes flashing with anger. “Lord Ushijima will--”

Reon quirked a brow, standing his ground. “He will what? Punish me for tending to his ward who is obviously in distress? Punish me for throwing you out when you’re _clearly_ making things worse?”

Shirabu’s lip trembled and he shoved Reon away from him, glaring at Tsutomu. “Put an end to this,” he commanded. “Fix that tea or find a way to fix him. We have enough troubles without some brat’s bad dreams waking everyone.” He stormed out, leaving silence in his wake.

“Taichi, go sleep in my room,” Reon said after a moment, ushering the boy out. Taichi gave Tsutomu one last look before bowing his head and departing without a word. Reon made his way to the edge Tsutomu’s bed and looked down at the sobbing boy. He knelt down, drawing him into a warm embrace. “It’s alright, you’re awake, and whatever happened wasn’t real.”

“I lost my locket,” Tsutomu explained through his tears, burying his face in Reon’s shoulder. “I went into the woods to face whatever was there and I lost my locket. What am I going to _do_?”

Reon sighed, shaking his head. “Shirabu shouldn’t have told you to go in there.” Tsutomu didn’t ask how Reon knew it had been Shirabu who’d put the idea his head. “I’m sorry that it’s been lost.”

“I miss her. I miss her so much,” Tsutomu confessed. “I never should have left. I should have stayed, when Lord Ushijima tried to...” He couldn’t bear to remember and covered his face, weeping again.

Reon rubbed slow circles into Tsutomu’s back until he calmed. “She didn’t want you to watch her die.”

“Is someone bringing flowers to her grave? Are they keeping it clean? She likes honeysuckle, I should send money to someone to plant some on her grave. That’s what she would want,” Tsutomu was frantic. If he didn’t have her close to him anymore how would she know she was loved? Her spirit might turn sad, with no one to care for her.

She might speak those accusations again, and have them be the truth.

“I can have Yamagata draft a letter and see if we can make that happen,” Reon promised. “But I think she knows how much you love her, Tsutomu.”

Tsutomu nodded, wiping at his face, and allowed Reon to tuck him back under the covers. Reon disappeared for a few moments and then returned with a bowl in hand and a freshly lit candle. Tsutomu whimpered at the touch of a cool cloth to his forehead, as Reon whispered for him to go back to sleep. He promised to stay for the rest of the night, just in case another dream happened. 

Tsutomu begged for the tea, not caring what the effects were, until Reon consented and slipped out of the room to make it for him. Tsutomu was left staring at the ceiling, eyes and head aching. He would spend the rest of his life drowsy by day, if only it meant never having to see that creature’s face in his dreams ever again.

***

“Goshiki!” 

He opened his eyes woozily and stared at Saito, wondering why he was on the ground and why his head hurt. 

“Tsutomu,” Ushijima said, shoving Saito out of the way. “What happened? Why didn’t you dodge that hit?”

Tsutomu tried to understand what he was being asked through the immense fatigue and realized he couldn’t remember much of his day, or the last few days. He’d been drinking the dreamless tea for nearly a week, determined to fight through the drowsiness it caused him, but had failed resounding on all counts. As he sat up and took in his surroundings he came to the conclusion that he had been sparring with the master at arms.

“He was following the motions perfectly, I don’t understand what happened,” Saito explained hurriedly. Tsutomu blinked in dizzy confusion, wondering why Saito and Ushijima were fussing so much over him. 

“I’m bringing him to Soekawa,” Ushijima declared, lifting Tsutomu like he was nothing more than a sack of flour. He said nothing further as he carried Tsutomu down to the infirmary where Soekawa had taken residence, and Tsutomu was in too much pain for conversation. 

The old healer had been losing his sight when Tsutomu had first joined the household, and it had disappeared completely two years ago. As a result, these days he remained in one room, letting those who needed him to come to him and only venturing to the dining room when he had a desire to mingle with the rest of the household.

Tsutomu wanted to say something, anything, to remove the look of worry and concern on Ushijima’s face. He’d never known Ushijima’s face to display much in the way of his emotions but right now, Ushijima’s eyes were tight with anxiety and his jaw clenched as though he wished to speak, but was refusing to do so.

“I’m sorry,” Tsutomu finally whispered. “I don’t know what happened.”

“We will wait until Soekawa has examined you to discuss this. Please try to remain calm.” Tsutomu fell silent as ordered, closing his eyes and trusting Ushijima to carry his weight.

The infirmary was in a sunny room on the bottom floor of the manor. Though Soekawa couldn’t appreciate the amount of sunlight, he enjoyed the warmth immensely. Soekawa told him once that old bones get cold easier than young ones, and Tsutomu wondered whether that meant that the elderly were rather like lizards, needing to constantly stretch out on rocks and bake. Ushijima cleared his throat to alert the healer to their presence.

“So the boy finally collapsed, did he?” Soekawa asked from where he sat by one of the large windows, his tone bordering on smug despite the worry behind it. “I told Reon that more than four days drinking it would likely cause a collapse. Bring him to the bed, Wakatoshi.”

Tsutomu was laid down in silence while Soekawa put his hands on his head, felt his neck, and then proceeded to tutt quietly. “He’s got a bump on the side of his skull here,” he said lightly touching the bruised area. “I don’t think its life threatening, but he needs to stop drinking the tea for at least a week, and no chores or training for three days until the drug clears from his system. He needs fresh air and exercise, but only the sort a boy can get wandering off on his own.”

Ushijima’s jaw clenched and he turned his gaze to Tsutomu. “You were drinking the tea despite the issues for a week?”

Tsutomu’s shoulders came up to his ears in shame. “I was… the last dream was…”

“Wakatoshi,” Soekawa interrupted, relieving Tsutomu of having to retell the horror of his nightmare, the first true fear he’d felt in forever. “I think it’s best that Tsutomu remain in the infirmary for today, and the night as well. I am more than capable of keeping him company. He needs rest, and perhaps being down here if he has a night terror it is less likely to rouse anyone else. I don’t sleep much as it is, so he will hardly be a nuisance to me.”

Tsutomu looked between the two men and swore for a moment that Soekawa was faking being blind. His stare was so perfectly intent on Ushijima’s face that Tsutomu was convinced. After a moment, Ushijima sighed and nodded, some of the worry easing from his expression. Soekawa smiled, he reached out to pat reassuringly on Ushijima’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, and I know that Tsutomu knows you are only as stern as you are because you care.”

Ushijima nodded his agreement, departed with an awkward and yet comforting ruffle of Tsutomu’s hair. His footsteps echoed down the hall and once they faded Soekawa let himself sit down on Tsutomu’s bed with a sigh. 

“I thought that was going to be harder than it turned out to be.” He turned his head towards Tsutomu, smiling warmly. “You put him through quite the scare there. You’re lucky all you have is a bump. Those practice swords are dulled but I have seen them deliver major damage to those unprepared for them.”

Tsutomu pouted but said nothing. He barely remembered going out to the practice yard, let alone engaging in a spar with Saito. His main concern was the fact that Ushijima seemed intent on making him feel like a child with his treatment. Taichi had fallen off a horse and Ushijima had barely flinched, calmly instructing the men to carry him carefully to the infirmary and briefly inquiring after his health while he was on bed rest, yet Tsutomu got a little lump on his head and Ushijima insisted on personally carrying Tsutomu to Soekawa’s care.

“You think Wakatoshi is being unreasonable,” Soekawa asked, seemingly knowing what was on Tsutomu’s mind. Tsutomu nodded before remembering that Soekawa couldn’t see that and looked up to see the man chuckling. “I can tell you are nodding. I think with his new title and the new duties that come with it, he feels he is giving less to you than he had been able to give to Reon and Taichi when they were younger.”

“It’s not fair,” Tsutomu whined. “He’s acting like I’m still ten. In a year I will be ready to start an apprenticeship, I’m almost a man grown.”

Soekawa chuckled, giving Tsutomu’s knee a squeeze. “I think he sees you like he used to see his brother. He was quite the spit fire and just as passionate when he was your age.”

“He has a brother?” Tsutomu perked up at the chance to learn more about the lord he so eagerly served. His family history and past were something rarely shared and Tsutomu was often too nervous to ask. He knew that the Ushijima family were prosperous and that it was their glories in battle that led to them rising through the ranks of the court, and that Ushijima himself was known for his strength and prowess and rewarded accordingly. 

“He did,” Soekawa corrected. “He passed away not long before you joined us. He fell in the same battle that earned Wakatoshi these lands. I often wonder if Wakatoshi wishes he could trade that for his brother.”

Tsutomu wanted to say that he didn’t think Ushijima was the sentimental type, but Soekawa would know better, having been there since before he was born. He remained quiet, hoping Soekawa would reveal more secrets, but he just offered Tsutomu a smile. “Now why don’t we talk about why you insisted on drinking that tea for a week straight despite the side effects?”

Tsutomu made a face, feeling ashamed. “I went into the woods a week ago,” Tsutomu admitted, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was easy to share secrets with Soekawa as he kept all of them. “I saw something there… it’s whatever I am seeing in my dreams. But when I ran from it, I lost my mother’s locket, and in my dream, it killed her.”

Soekawa hummed quietly, pursing his lips together as he nodded in understanding. “You met the Satori guardian.” Tsutomu looked up wide eyed. “It is a gentle spirit, one that has guarded these woods for centuries. Some have seen him, usually those who have magic running in their veins.”

“Gentle?” Tsutomu wanted to object, but the words couldn’t pass his lips, heart thrumming as Soekawa looked out the window a little wistfully and then shook his head. “How do you know?”

Soekawa didn’t answer his question. Instead, he tapped Tsutomu’s arm, then took Tsutomu’s hand into his own. He ran a bony finger up Tsutomu’s arm and stopped at the inside of his elbow joint. “Your mother was a witch.” It wasn’t a question. “Your blood carries her magic. I daresay you probably have several of her skills, but perhaps not her proficiency. Witch blood is fickle like that, and favors women.”

“My mother always said to run from fae,” Tsutomu replied. “She said they have unknown intentions and should never be trusted.”

Soekawa nodded. “Your mother was a smart woman. Most fae are indeed not to be trusted. They do not have the same rules for propriety as we do. They deal in bargains and sometimes in mischief. But Satori’s guardian is not such a being. Not when I lived here, and not now, which...troubles me.” Soekawa frowned, and when he felt Tsutomu’s gaze weigh upon him, he smiled. “But don’t worry about that. I’ll discuss the matter with Wakatoshi without discussing your actions.”

That wasn’t quite the answer Tsutomu wanted, but he decided not to argue the point. He certainly didn’t want to face the fae again. He shuddered. “I felt scared for the first time in my life,” Tsutomu admitted with shame. “I was afraid and I ran.”

“There is no shame in feeling fear Tsutomu,” Soekawa reassured him. “Courage is not always a war cry. Sometimes it's a quiet voice, saying tomorrow I will try again.” He tapped Tsutomu’s knee once more, encouraging him to sit up. “Now, what say you - pull a book from my shelf and read to me? It’s been quite some time since I had a captive patient. I think there should be a tale of adventure and heroism hiding somewhere in my collection of boring academics.”

***

The nightmare resurfaced after just two days without the tea. Tsutomu was still safely tucked away in the infirmary and Soekawa barely stirred when Tsutomu sat up in a fright, a barely-restrained shout in his throat. He hadn’t even made it into the woods before he saw the guardian’s face. 

Tsutomu felt the tears on his cheek before he knew they were coming. He palmed his chest blindly before remembering that there was nothing there to grab. He covered his mouth to muffle his sobs, unwilling to wake Soekawa.

When he cried himself out, he lay there on the bed, unwilling - unable - to return to sleep. His hand kept coming to his chest automatically, the loss striking him anew every time.

Early dawn began to shine through the glass and Tsutomu watched the sun rise over the tops of the trees, bathing the room in a beautiful gold. From this vantage the forest looked peaceful, not a place full of death and a guardian whose intentions while seemingly benign were unknown.

“Come with me into the trees,” he whispered, the melody of his dreams coming to him like a song he’d known his whole life. “We’ll lay on the grass and let the hours pass.”

He exhaled slowly, and swallowed.

Tsutomu was going back.

_But he didn’t have to go alone…_

***

“Tsutomu, this is pointless,” Taichi griped after two hours of walking in circles. “How in the world do you expect us to find your locket when you can’t even remember the path you took?”

Tsutomu shook his head and refused to dignify Taichi’s incessant complaints. He was determined to find the locket, even if it meant being in the forest until sunset. 

As the hours passed, it felt as though they had walked long enough to hit the very center of the woods itself, and yet when they looked back they could still see the manor. Taichi complained constantly that there was a weird smell, but Tsutomu refused to comment, trying to keep his attention away from any potentially dangerous questions and solely on the missing locket. 

At long last, they crossed over the threshold of decay and found themselves in a living area of the woods. Taichi stopped to take in the scenery as Tsutomu lit up and darted about, trying to find the mirrored trees that had led him to the fae’s domain. He kept checking the ground for any sign of his presence from the week before, a foot print, maybe even a disturbance in the dirt from when he’d dug his hands in to smell fresh and clean earth, but he saw nothing.

Then a flash of silver caught his eye and he ran forward, feeling his heart leap when he saw a glimpse of his own face for a brief moment. He reached out and pressed his fingers hesitantly on the reflective bark, smiling when he felt the smooth glass surface. Surely they’d find his locket now.

“Taichi!” he called out excitedly, hand still tenderly resting on the tree in front of him. He wasn't sure how Taichi would react to the news when Tsutomu explained where they would be going, but he hoped he’d at least be interested. At least now he’d be able to explain why he’s insisted Taichi strap on a dagger.

“What is it? Did you find it?” Taichi came running over, relieved. Tsutomu turned to show him the mirrored tree and stopped when he realized he was no longer touching the glass surface. Instead, a normal tree stood in front of him. He circled around it and touched the other ones close by, looking for the glass bark and frowning in confusion, then in utter loss. He wanted to throw something, and Taichi stepped close, voice soft as he asked, “Tsutomu what’s going on?”

Tsutomu bit back the urge to cry and shook his head. “I thought I saw something.”

Taichi sighed, he put his hand on Tsutomu’s shoulder and gave a squeeze, it was meant to be reassuring, but Tsutomu felt nothing but a sense of pity. “We should go back.”

“You go,” Tsutomu mumbled, still staring in disbelief at what was a completely normal tree. “I need a little bit of alone time.” 

“If you’re sure…” Taichi agreed dubiously. “But you’d better come back. I’m not explaining to Ushijima where I last saw you before you disappeared.”

Tsutomu tried to smile at that, but failed, and with one last concerned look, Taichi turned his back on Tsutomu and headed towards the manor.

Only after he was sure Taichi had gotten far enough away did he allow himself to drop to the ground to cry. He buried his face in his hands and wept, crying out for a mother who could not hear him. He cried for five years of a ceaseless loneliness. He cried over the hole that couldn’t be filled, and the loss of the only family he had ever known.

“Ow!” he yelped as something struck the top of his head, interrupting his tears. He winced and rubbed his hair before once again catching a flash of light from the corner of his eye. A cry of joy burst from his lips as he crawled forward and lovingly pressed his palms to the mirrored tree again, in total disbelief that they had appeared a third time. “Magic in my veins,” he whispered, finally understanding. For whatever reason, the presence of another person disrupted his ability to find the mirrored trees; had he not sent Taichi away, he might not have found them again at all.

He wrapped his arms around the tree in a fond embrace, giving his shattered reflection a smile he hoped looked less grim than it appeared. Striding forward, he kept his hand close to the pommel of his dagger, ready to defend himself. Regardless of Soekawa’s claims about the kindness of the guardian fae, Tsutomu was on edge. He followed same the path as before and braced for the wash of magic that overtook him as he stepped once again into the fae’s domain.

It looked very much the same as it had a week previous. Golden light shone through the branches, dancing along the grass. A small hut with no more than two rooms sat at the far end, and he observed a small bit of smoke rising from a makeshift chimney. Next to the hut was a stone bier bedecked in an array of fresh flowers. As he watched, there was movement and the figure from his nightmares stood and faced him.

“I knew you would return,” it said, half a smile crossing its long face. 

“Why is that?” Tsutomu choked out, hand still poised to grab his dagger.

“Because of this,” it said, holding out its hand.

Dangling from the twisted gnarls of wood that made up the creature’s hand was his mother’s locket. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!!
> 
> Who doesn't love cliffhangers right?
> 
> I want to take a moment to give special thanks to [rustingroses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustingroses)  
> She has literally been there since the begeinning when this fic was a fledgling concept and all I knew was that I wanted Fae Tendou and for Semi to be his mortal lover who perished. That was literally all I had as a concept, and she has supported every idea that came about until the final one became a concept I could actually turn into a story. She has tirelessly taken my rambling words and brought them to life with her careful editing, always remembering to tell me how much I have grown as a writer. Please, please, go check her out and read her catalog of fics, she is amazing.
> 
> Thank you as always for comments and kudos
> 
> [Hit me on tumblr if I gave you feelings](http://quinnlocke.tumblr.com/ask)


	3. Where Are You Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ennui - en·nui - änˈwē  
> noun  
> a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.  
> synonyms: boredom, tedium, listlessness, lethargy, lassitude, languor, weariness, enervation; malaise, dissatisfaction, melancholy, depression, world-weariness, Weltschmerz
> 
> "an ennui bred of long familiarity"

Tsutomu couldn’t breathe as he watched his mother’s locket swaying from the creatures hand, glittering in the sunlight. The fae stared at him as though trying to see his soul, blood red eyes never blinking. After a moment, it extended it’s arm, inviting Tsutomu to take the locket from it.

He walked forward slowly, eyes locked with the fae that was both guarding and destroying the forest, hand hovering above the dagger on his hip. The creatures eyes flitted to the blade briefly and then back to Tsutomu, freezing him for a moment. They stood a foot away from each other, neither of them moving a muscle.

Tsutomu wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was humanoid, in that it stood on two legs and had two arms. He thought it was naked the first time he’d laid eyes on it, but now saw that black leaves, like the decayed ones littering the forest floor covered its hips and upper thighs. Its chest was bare and sunken in, its ribs creating dark hollows to match the ones on its face. Its paper thin skin peeled away in several spots on its body, worst of all on its fingers and pointed ears.

Finally, it blinked, and Tsutomu leapt forward to snatch the locket from its twisted hand. He jumped away and pressed it close to his chest, shuddering.

He didn’t spare the fae another glance before backing away towards the forest, intent on leaving before anything else could happen, fear throttling him. Tsutomu _hated_ the creature for making him feel fear. He’d been proud of all the times Ushijima spoke of his courage, how he had the heart of a commander. Yet in the presence of this fae, the so called heart of a commander beat so fast he thought it might leap out of his chest.

“Don’t go,” it whispered, voice hoarse. Tsutomu didn’t imagine many people ventured into the forest, least of all those who might have the ability to find the fae’s domain.

Tsutomu kept his head down and refused to look back. 

“I have to,” he said, though in that moment he wasn’t sure which one of them believed him less.

***

Tsutomu stared down at the fish stew in front of him and dragged his spoon through it. Part of him felt terrible that he wasn’t eating it. Ushijima had gone out of his way to have the cooks prepare some of his favorite foods since his collapse in the practice yard and he’d gone to bed for three days straight with a belly so full it almost hurt. The flounder in the stew smelled amazing, but as much as his taste buds demanded to be satiated, he couldn’t bring himself to eat more than three bites. All he could think about was the events in the forest.

“Tsutomu, you’re not eating,” Taichi whispered, nudging him. Tsutomu looked up and saw that the rest of the table was either staring at him or trying to pretend they weren’t staring at him while staring at him. Ushijima ate his stew but also kept glancing in his direction. Shirabu’s gaze was so firmly planted on the bowl in front of him it was obvious he was refusing to look at him at all, and even then his gaze flickered towards Tsutomu. Reon fixed him with a concerned stare, but neglected to comment. Sokeawa finally broke the silence by clearing his throat loudly _._

“Tsutomu, my boy, come here,” he said, holding arms up in a welcoming gesture. Tsutomu reluctantly walked over to him and let the old healer feel his head, face, and neck. “Mmmm, it’s as I thought.”

“What?” Ushijima asked, voice even despite his obvious concern. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s obviously struck with ennui,” Soekawa declared. Reon glanced between his mentor and his lord, eyes wide, waiting for someone, anyone, to ask what the old man was on about. “It happens in boys his age sometimes. Comes out of nowhere and if not treated they become almost mindless from it.”

“What does he need? How long have you been having symptoms?” Ushijima demanded first of Soekawa, then Tsutomu.

Reon choked hard and hastily grabbed his water goblet, drinking fast, reaching for the pitcher to refill it before he was even finished. Taichi looked horrified at the healer’s diagnosis, Yamagata continued to eat as though nothing was going on, and Shirabu stabbed pieces of his fish with his spoon turning his stew to paste.

“Calm down, Wakatoshi, people will begin to think you have emotions,” Soekawa cackled, waving a hand while sending Tsutomu back to his chair. “I just think he should have a bit more freedom for the next few more days. Some time to just roam about and be a child. He’s a year away from having to give all that up. Best to let him enjoy the time he has. Perhaps some walks in the woods.”

“Absolutely not,” Ushijima declared, fist hitting the table. The silence that permeated the room in the wake of so sharp a response spoke volumes. Tsutomu picked up his spoon and forced himself to eat, if only to ease the man’s mind and to occupy himself. Ushijima exhaled deeply, his eyes closed for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “I am more than amenable to him being given more time to roam and relax as you said. But the woods are off limits to you, Tsutomu. I have already told most of the villagers to refrain from entering it if they can at all help it. The decay is starting to spread. In fact, none of you are to enter the Satori forest until further notice.” He looked around until everyone verbalized their acknowledgement of his order, Tsutomu included.

“It’s a shame nothing is being done to locate the source,” Yamagata noted after a moment. “I know we don’t have the resources to investigate it, given none of us are the scientific types, but it ought to be done. It could be bugs, or some strange disease of the leaves. We should ask King Oikawa to send missives to some of the academic institutions, perhaps someone there might have an interest in looking at them.”

Shirabu sighed and shook his head. “King Oikawa will not have dealings with them. Not since what happened at the Summer joust.”

“I can’t believe the Satori forest will die because our king is as petty as his great grandfather was,” Soekawa lamented. “One hundred years and a thousand bodies still lay in a mass grave because of one man’s pride, and it seems that no one, not the crown, not the people, have learned the value of letting things go.”

“Jin,” Ushijima warned. “It is not our place to question the motives of our king. That is what led to Lord Washijou’s fall in the first place.”

“Let the old fool’s bones rot in the yard for all I care, him and his commanders,” Soekawa snapped in a rare show of temper. “You forget, Wakatoshi, I grew up here. I am talking about the men he forced into his war. The men of this village and the others of this territory. Nearly a thousand men dead for the pride of a lord and his king.”

Silence fell in the wake of Soekawa’s sharp response. Ushijima could warn all he wanted, could call Soekawa by his first name, and could grip his spoon so hard it bent. Soekawa would not be stopped on the rare occasions he felt he had to speak out.

“Tsutomu, remember this in your later years,” he said, blind eyes trained on Tsutomu’s. “Pride is not worth the cost of someone else’s life. A forest that has stood for centuries, long before this kingdom existed, is dying because a man's pride is not worth overlooking a few minor transgressions.

***

Moonlight poured through the windows of the infirmary, bathing the room in a soft light. Tsutomu sat upright in bed, staring out at the forest, twisting his fingers together. A soft creak caught his attention and he turned to see Reon come through the door, candle in hand. He put a finger to his lips and gestured for Tsutomu to follow him. 

He followed Reon to the kitchens and took a seat at the table. Yunohama, the cook, nodded to Reon and gave Tsutomu’s hair a ruffle before departing. A kettle sat over the flames, steam rising slowly from the spout. 

“What's going on?” Tsutomu asked as Reon milled about the kitchen, procuring everything needed for tea, including Tsutomu’s favorite sweet, a cake composed of layers of chocolate, fudge, and dark red cherries.

“I thought perhaps with all the trouble you’ve been experiencing, a cup of tea and some cake before bed would do you more good than bitter medicine.”

Tsutomu laughed and stabbed a cherry with his fork. “It wasn’t so bad, I didn’t dream.”

“Dreams are important though,” Reon insisted, pouring two cups of tea and adding honey. He set one cup in front of Tsutomu and grabbed his own fork, taking a few bites of the cake before continuing. “I think my tea is affecting the period of sleep where dreams occur. Since you weren’t getting that part of your sleep, you became drowsy more and more each day.”

Tsutomu paused, fork halfway to his mouth, a horrible thought striking him. “Am I going to die?”

“Why, why would you think that?” Reon choked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Ennui,” Tsutomu said, eyes intent on Reon’s, begging for the truth. “Is it going to kill me?”

Reon buried his face in his hands and let out a barking laugh. “I am going to kill Soekawa, I swear!” He laughed heartily, clutching his stomach. “Ennui is a fancy word for boredom, Tsutomu. Soekawa is telling Ushijima you need less rules and regulations and more time to go do something fun for yourself. You’re most certainly not going to die of it, although I’m given to understand that quite a few boys your age certainly _feel_ like they might die from it.”

Tsutomu began to laugh along with Reon, caught up in the absurdity of it all - Soekawa’s grave diagnosis, the way Ushijima had looked in the wake of it, and how through all of it Soekawa had kept a straight face. The release of tension had him laughing until he cried, and he felt far better afterwards.

“I hope the old man lives forever,” Reon sighed, gazing into the depths of his tea like he could read the future from the leaves once both of them had finished their cake. “I don’t think I’ll ever be a match for Ushijima the way that he is.”

“What was Ushijima like when he took you on?” Tsutomu rested his head on his arms. He felt drowsy, but not quite ready to fall asleep. “Did he want you to be a soldier like him?”

Reon’s quiet chuckle made Tsutomu smile fondly. “No, I was always meant to be a healer. Ushijima came to my family, same as he came to you and your mother. My father died while under his command, though not in a battle. He’d been bitten by some strange bug while scouting, they didn’t know until it was too late to give him an antidote for it,” Reon’s face turned sad. “Ushijima gave my mother a year’s wages for the loss and made an offer: ‘I will take on one of your sons as a ward, and see him trained in a craft, so that he may provide for you in the future.’”

Tsutomu remembered a similar speech being delivered to his own mother. Tsutomu wondered if Ushijima had already known Kaiya was dying. Had he been told before he’d arrived?

“I was fifteen, just like you now. I still can’t believe it’s been ten years. Soekawa took one look at me and he said ‘Boy, you have a healer's heart, but not the stomach. We’re going to fix that.’” Reon’s smile spoke of the fondness he felt for both his mentor and lord. “Ushijima wasn’t as protective of me as he seems to be of you. The again, he was younger, less weary. It might also be because of your mother.”

Tsutomu’s hand went to where the locket rested, as he always did when his mother was mentioned. “What about her?”

“Taichi, myself, even Yamagata, our mothers still live. But yours does not,” he said, a sad smile crossing his face. “I think that knowledge weighs on him, even now.” 

Tsutomu looked away. He didn’t want to talk about his mother. He hated knowing she likely died with only a healer at her bedside to ease her passing. He remembered the times they’d cared for those who were dying who had no one, remaining at their sides so they would not pass into the next world alone. 

“He’s very lonely, isn’t he?”

“He is.”

Tsutomu didn’t have it in him to tell Reon that it wasn’t Ushijima he was talking about. His mind was on the final words spoken to him by the guardian deep in the woods. _Don’t go._

How long had the fae been alone? Why was he dying? Why had he given the locket without asking for anything in return?

That night, his dreams were of sad eyes and a grave with no one to lay flowers on. Of a lonely guardian, who was likely going to die with no one there to ease his passing.

***

“You came back,” it - _he_ \- said as Tsutomu wandered back into his domain, his voice cracking at the end.

"I did," Tsutomu answered, staring up at the fae. A vague description from his mother leapt into his head. "Are you the the heart of the tree?" he asked eagerly. He frowned. "Well. Heart of the forest? The...fae-king?" He didn't know the right word but was standing up on his toes, almost vibrating with excitement.

The fae tilted his head in thought, eyebrows scrunching as he pondered the question. “I’m no king,” he finally answered with a somber shake to his head. “Maybe once a prince,” he said, casting his eyes out around him searching for an old memory. “Fae, guardian… Tendou.”

“Tendou?”

He smiled and placed a hand to his bare chest. “Tendou.” 

“I’m Goshiki,” he said, forgetting one did not just give their names to the fae. 

Tendou smiled again, his skin cracking at the corners of his lips. He grimaced and brought a hand to his mouth, checking the damage with a sigh. “I forgot how to do that.”

Tsutomu swallowed. Fae were old and likely this one had been around for as long as the forest had existed. However, it left his heart aching, that someone, even a fae, could remain so unhappy for so long that they could simply _forget_ how to smile.

Instead of asking why Tendou had forgotten, however, he asked, “Why did you ask me where my fear was?” Tsutomu had been wondering about this ever since his first encounter with Tendou, and he found himself inching forward in the throes of his curiosity.

“That’s what I do,” Tendou explained. “I see fears and I use them to protect the forest from those who would harm it. I have not needed to keep anyone out for a long time though. You were the first visitor since…” he trailed off and wandered over to the empty bier that had been built next to his hut. Tsutomu came to stand beside him, surprised to see the bier was empty.

“Guess Monster, he called me,” Tendou told him, though he didn’t explain who ‘ _he_ ’ was. “Into my woods he came, searching for herbs and other things for his mother’s potions. A witch boy, like you. I found him roaming my woods and asked him...” His expression was distant, and full of grief.

“Where is your fear,” Tsutomu whispered, and it seemed to draw Tendou’s attention back to the present. He nodded and his lips quirked as though a full smile hurt too much, but he wanted to smile for Tsutomu all the same.

“Yes, although,” Tendou interrupted himself to laughed quietly, his chest quaking with it. “Although instead of escaping, Eita screamed something unpleasant and struck me in the face. He had no fear just like you.”

“Eita?”

Tendou’s eyes spoke volumes. In them Tsutomu saw fondness, love, and a terrible sadness all at once. Whoever Eita was, he meant the world to Tendou.

“My Eita, my beautiful, brave, angry Eita.” Tendou stretched out his fingers and with a beckoning gesture caused sprays of blue flowers to grow along the edges of the bier. They were five petaled with yellow centers and he plucked a sprig to hand to Tsutomu. “It’s been…” he stopped and looked at Tsutomu with a bewildered look, a fog of confusion briefly descending as he lost track of the conversation. “Where is your fear?”

“Ushijima, my guardian, says I don’t have any,” Tsutomu answered, putting the sprig of flowers behind his ear. It was becoming apparent that Tendou was unused to conversation. He decided it would be best to allow the fae to direct their talks, so as not to overwhelm his troubled mind. “I felt it, though, after I met you.”

“That is my purpose,” Tendou reminded him as he called for more flowers to grow. Tsutomu recognized them immediately. White camellias. His mother grew them in her garden. He reached out and touched a soft white petal, smiling at the memory of his mother and the way she tended to her flowers. “Do you feel fear now?”

“No.” Tsutomu shook his head. “You’re not so scary once you get past the…,” he gestured awkwardly to the tree like growths coming out of Tendou’s head and his generally skeletal appearance. The fae raised a confused hand up to his own head and then touched the side of Tsutomu’s head with the other hand. His fingers felt like polished wood, cold and smooth.

“They were better looking in another life,” he mused, fingers running down Tsutomu’s cheek, touching his own cracked face with the other hand. “I think I might have been too.” Tendou’s expression was pained and several black tears slid down his cheeks, for all he seemed unaware of them.

“What happened to you?” Tsutomu asked. “What happened to your forest?”

Tendou sighed, wiping the tears from his face before he pressed his palm to his chest. Tsutomu watched in fascination as his fingers sunk into his flesh. The skin parted with a noise that reminded Tsutomu of bark being peeled away from a young tree. He looked down at the hole in his chest and then back up to Tsutomu.

Inside Tendou’s chest were two hearts. One was black as pitch, engorged with thick blood and barely pumping. Next to his black heart another rested, beating steadily and emitting a bright green glow. 

“This is the heart of the forest,” he said, delicately stroking over the green, glowing heart. “It is what makes the trees grow, what has kept it alive for centuries. Twas gifted to me by my mother when she made me to guard this place. It will live long after I am gone, too, though it will have no one to guard it.” His expression twisted with distress as he stared into his own chest.

“And the other?” 

“That heart belongs to me,” Tendou sighed. “It is broken and will someday stop beating entirely. When it does…”

“You’ll die?” 

Tendou nodded and with a gesture of his hand he closed his chest back up, though the skin remained cracked. He sat down and wheezed, the effort of whatever magic he’d practiced obviously wearing him out. “The forest will live, but it won’t have me to keep it safe any longer. Men will come and chop down the trees, build new roads, and they will forget that this place ever had magic. So although my death is poisoning it, I must keep it safe in my chest. I will protect it as long as I can.”

“But why?” Tsutomu asked. Fae were eternal. Fae had lived long before man and would continue to live on after. They lived within their realm and the mortal, passing between as easily as one might walk through a door. “What happened to you?”

“I loved,” Tendou answered, his gnarled fingers touching a blue flower with tender delicacy. “I loved the witch boy who promised me his heart. I loved as I never thought I could. I loved my Eita so much that when I felt him die… my heart broke from the pain.”

“My heart is broken too,” Tsutomu said, sitting down beside Tendou. He opened the locket carefully and pulled out the lock of jet black hair. He held it up for Tendou to touch. “My mother died five years ago.”

“Mortals are meant to love many times over,” Tendou assured him. “Your heart will heal and you will someday be able to share love with someone again.”

Tsutomu placed the lock of hair back into the locket and added the sprig of flowers he’d been gifted to it before clasping it shut, inexplicably reassured by Tendou’s words and the kindness of his presence, despite his role as someone to inspire fear in the name of the forest he loved so much. “Can I come back here again? To spend time?”

“I would enjoy your company, Goshiki,” Tendou promised with a smile that cracked his face. “It has been very lonely.”

Tsutomu returned the smile, just as bright. “I know exactly how you feel.”


	4. Monsters Run Wild Inside Me

“I have been informed what ennui is,” Ushijima declared during dinner a few nights later. Tsutomu bowed his head and spooned stew into his mouth quietly so that he wouldn’t react, and nearly choked on the mouthful. Soekawa chuckled quietly before setting his glass down on the table with a clink.

“Found me out then, did you,” he said, not having even the grace to hide his mirth. Tsutomu wished he would show at least some remorse. He wasn’t the one who was likely about to lose all privileges for the ruse. Unless, of course, Tsutomu decided to play dumb. Surely Reon wouldn’t spill the beans that he had told Tsutomu about the false prognosis.

He’d enjoyed the three days of freedom he’d gotten as a result of Soekawa’s claim. He’d spent them in the woods with Tendou. The fae wasn’t much for talking, as the movement caused his already broken face to crack and shift even more, but he enjoyed conversing nevertheless and had adopted subtle expressions to show his emotions. The talking was left to Tsutomu, who, now that he had a captive audience, had plenty to say.

He told Tendou about everyone living in the manor, even Shirabu, telling Tendou everything he’d longed to share with his mother. Tendou listened and nodded and gasped accordingly at each story Tsutomu shared. He’d even laughed when Tsutomu told him of the time Tsutomu had dropped down from the rafters of the barn and made Taichi shriek like a little girl. 

Tendou had a nice laugh, and he was good company, and Tsutomu did not want to lose it.

“I am a reasonable man,” Ushijima insisted, breaking Tsutomu from his daydream. “I can be amenable to a different sort of schedule for Tsutomu. I do not appreciate being made a laughing stock within my own home.” Although scolding and frustrated, true ire would only be expressed privately, and he sighed as he frowned at Soekawa.

“To be fair,” Soekawa countered. “Only Reon and I knew it was a joke at the time. Shirabu is the one who had to go and spoil it.”

“I had nothing to--” Shirabu interjected indignantly, before being silenced with a gesture from Ushijima. He scowled at Soekawa and Tsutomu, jaw clenching as it always did when he had something to say but was forced to remain silent.

Tsutomu saw that expression a _lot_.

“I am Tsutomu’s guardian, entrusted to care for him. How am I to care for him if I am lied to about what is wrong with him?” Ushijima’s expression was still utterly serious as he stared down the resident healer and his apprentice. “I wish nothing but the best for him.”

“Wakatoshi,” Soekawa sighed, mirth giving way to exasperation. “I simply noticed the boy had a need for some freedom. I thought perhaps a little fun was in order, and in the end I was right. Reon tells me there is color in his cheeks again and that his appetite returned.”

Tsutomu wanted to be anywhere but at the table while this was going on as everyone turned to look at him and his half-empty second portion of food. He looked across the table and caught a look from Taichi that screamed ‘better you than me’, and he resisted the urge to fling a dinner roll at his face. Reon contented himself with his food, rolling his eyes at the exchange. Tsutomu wished he had Yamagata’s ability to pretend he wasn’t there. 

Still, he couldn’t help but throw a hopeful look to Ushijima, praying that his ability to see Tendou wouldn’t completely vanish. Even two free days a week would satisfy him.

Ushijima cleared his throat, showing no sign as to whether he’d caught Tsutomu’s pleading expression. “We will continue this discussion after dinner. You will remain at the table, Tsutomu.”

Tsutomu slowed his eating to a crawl, watching everyone else finish their dinner and depart, all but Shirabu throwing a reassuring or rueful look. He hoped if he took long enough to finish eating, he could prolong the inevitable. Reon was the last to leave, and as he departed he gave Tsutomu’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. 

Tsutomu looked down at his last bite and then glanced at Ushijima and Soekawa, waiting with bated breath.

“The next time you think something needs to be done for Tsutomu’s health, then tell me plainly, as these jokes and games do him no good,” Ushijima said finally, hands folded in front of him as he stared down at the table, a worried furrow between his brows.

Soekawa sighed, resting his arms on the table and his head in his hands. “Fine then, since you insist, here is my prognosis, plain and boring as you have requested. Tsutomu needs more free time. He has one free day a week, and since we’ve come here, that free day is limited based on what you allow him to do. If he doesn’t have those his own age to play with or the ability to explore he will be struck by boredom or mischief, and I think we can both agree neither bodes well. I propose instead that he focuses on chores and studies for two days, and is then given freedom his third day. This will continue on accordingly. I also propose that you place a little more trust in the boy to not go off where he’s not supposed to. Let him roam the village and the surrounding areas. Give him access to his horse. He’s shown he can be trusted.”

Tsutomu watched nervously, eyes flitting from Ushijima to Soekawa and back, bracing himself for it to go very badly. Ushijima didn’t like being toyed with, even if it was Soekawa doing the toying. 

“For five years we did more travelling than staying put,” Soekawa continued when Ushijima remained silent. “So that you could meet the other lords of the territories and establish alliances for when you accepted your position. Tsutomu’s activities were limited only by the order he not do anything that might besmirch your reputation, and he did no such thing. We arrived here, you clamped a vice on his freedom, and yet you wonder why the boy has nightmares.”

Tsutomu paled and looked down at the table. Ushijima giving him restrictions had nothing to do with his nightmares, although neither Ushijima nor Soekawa knew it. Tendou had explained to him that the heart of the forest felt its vessel dying and was calling out to see it saved. His nightmares were nothing more than a manifestation of the fear the forest felt at losing its guardian, and it had reached out to the nearest compatible being to try and express its sense of loss.

He caught a sad look from Ushijima and tried to give him a reassuring smile to show he wasn’t mad or upset. Ushijima looked grave, sighing as he stretched out his arms, then folded them once again.

“Tsutomu,” he started. “Do you think you can still be diligent in your studies and chores? This is both a great trust and great responsibility I would be giving you. I am willing to give you all of the permissions Soekawa has suggested, including the horse.”

Tsutomu nodded vigorously, afraid his voice would crack if he tried to speak, breathless with excitement and joy. In his mind he thought over all the things he could do on those free days. He could ride a horse out to Traitor’s Grave and see the castle up close finally. He’d be able to go exploring around the village and surrounding lands, just to see what was there. He could venture back into the woods again, too, and continue his visits and tentative friendship with Tendou, who’d admitted only this afternoon that - well.

That Tsutomu reminded him how to smile.

“Very well, tomorrow begins this new schedule. I expect to hear that you continue to attend your lessons and are productive with your chores.” Ushijima stated, giving Tsutomu a warning glance.

Tsutomu was too busy beaming to notice. “I promise I will! Thank you!” He offered Ushijima a hasty bow, running off to share the news with Taichi before he was even formally dismissed, already planning what to do with his free day.

***

Tendou took Tsutomu into the deeper parts of the forest on his next visit. The trees parted their leaves as they passed underneath, allowing the rays of the sun to stream through and light their way, but the forest was otherwise cool and calm. Even the wild life they encountered seemed unconcerned with Tsutomu’s presence, and he tried desperately to take in all of the sights while peppering Tendou with constant questions.

“How long has the forest stood?” Tsutomu asked, walking along a fallen tree, his arms stretched out keep balance. 

“Time is not the same for you as it is for fae,” Tendou said, looking up into the sun and letting the warmth sink over him. “I guess the correct word would be many thousands of years.”

Tsutomu made a noise of acknowledgement, then heard the sounds of running water and ran ahead, marvelling at the sight of a deep pool fed by a waterfall. He felt a stirring in his chest, urging him to run forward and leap into the depths of the water, but Tendou’s hand grabbed his shoulder pulling him back before he could jump.

“We shall not tarry here,” he murmured, drawing Tsutomu away from the water, his grip almost painfully firm. “I do not wish to remain where my memories are strong.” A faint trace of grief shone on his face, and Tsutomu’s delight faded.

“You brought Eita here,” Tsutomu whispered.

“I did.” He nodded, eyes blinking from black to red. “We were here the last day I saw him. We swam in the clear waters, made love under the stars, and he promised me his heart.”

Tsutomu stood at the edge of that beautiful deep pool, soaking up the sense of safety and love that lingered here, even now. He couldn’t look at Tendou, only the waterfall. “How did Eita die?”

“I don’t know,” Tendou breathed. “All I know is that Eita promised me his heart, and I waited for him. I waited, and the skies grew dark from the calamities of the land. I waited, and I heard the cries of the villagers for lost sons and daughters. I waited, and then one day, I felt my love leave this world.”

Tendou turned away, leaving Tsutomu to stare after him. “And now I only wait to die so that I may join him.”

***

“Goshiki, get down from the damn rafters!” Shibata shouted. They were cleaning out the stables to allow for the accommodation of more horses should Ushijima receive any noble visitors, but Tsutomu had already turned it into an adventure.

He’d offered to go up into the loft to see if any supplies had been pushed back into hidden corners, reasoning that it would be more interesting than actually cleaning. He’d discovered a few children’s saddles, several rusty horseshoes, and a quilt with some strange stains on it, but nothing really caught his interest. Well, it had been curious that Shibata had blushed when Tsutomu had held the stained blanket up, saying that it was probably old and best to toss it out because no one would wish to use it. Tsutomu had almost inquired as to why when he pieced it together himself and dropped the quilt to the floor with a grimace, wiping his hands on his trousers vigorously.

Once the loft had been emptied, he’d decided to walk along the beams that crossed the stables. A few of the horses looked up at him as he passed above them, but none seemed perturbed by his actions.

In fact, the only one who seemed to be perturbed was Shibata.

“Lord Ushijima will kill me if you fall!” Shibata shouted, clutching his chest with worry. “Get down here now!”

“Good thing I never fall then,” Tsutomu scoffed, dropping to sit on the rafter and swing his feet over Shibata.

“Don’t say that sort of shit! You’ll make it happen!”

“I’m--woooah!” Tsutomu faked slipping before swinging back to hang upside down, laughing hysterically at the white-faced horror on Shibata’s face. 

His laughter abruptly ended as the sounds of shrieks and panicked yelling filled the air, however. He jumped down from the rafters, sprinted out into the yard with Shibata, before running out to where the commotion was coming from. 

A crowd had gathered near the manor’s private cemetery, Yamagata standing firm against a seething village elder who looked a second away from clobbering Yamagata with his staff. 

“I understand your opposition, Respected Elder, but you have been complaining since our arrival that the southern well is poisoned after rainstorms. Our healer inspected the area and believed that run-off from the cemetery - no, let me finish, sir--” Yamagata had to raise his voice to be heard over the clamoring protests, “The run off is the root cause of the matter! Lord Ushijima has some experience with these things and is inspecting it himself, if you can just--” 

“There’s a damn demon in the woods. It's coming for our dead!” the elder bellowed. “We’ve all seen the decay spreading, the southern well is not even a mile from the tree line! You were supposed to _fix_ the problems here, not sit twiddling your thumbs while things get worse!”

“Sir, if you would refrain from screaming at me,” Yamagata answered as calmly as he could. “Please allow Lord Ushijima to inspect before you go running off and creating a scene.”

“He’s gonna see the same thing we’re all seein’ in there,” the man spat, and turned away.

Tsutomu poked his way through the crowd trying to get a look at the graves to see what all the fuss was about. He got down on his hands and knees and edged towards the first grave, which had been partially exhumed. 

Ushijima and Soekawa might be right about the run-off from the rotting corpses, but it was not the only problem. Although the greenery on the surface appeared normal, the deepest portion of exposed dirt was not.

The smell of decay in the soil was strong enough to make him want to vomit. The dirt itself felt like ash as his fingers dug into it. He knelt frozen in shock at the sight in front of him. No one had even noticed he was there until Ushijima shouted his name and strode forward to haul him up by the back of his jerkin. He yelled something about being underfoot and why wasn’t he working in the stables, when Tsutomu pointed at the open grave drawing Ushijima’s attention to it.

The roots of the very trees had grown under the cemetery, stretching a mile and a half, driven as much by Tendou’s grief and pain as by the bitter magic that welled up from his slow death. What they were searching for, Tsutomu had no idea, but they’d wrapped themselves around the coffin and had cracked open the wood itself. Ushijima wrapped an arm around Tsutomu, pulling him in tight, his grip a vice.

“Stay out of the woods Tsutomu,” he said, voice grave and pained. 

Tsutomu could only stare at the roots that were unmistakably in the shape of a hand.

The hand he’d first seen in his nightmares.

***

“It’s you!” Tsutomu accused, bursting into Tendou’s domain. The fae turned away from the bier and frowned. “You’re killing the forest! You made the roots grow under the graves!”

“I did,” Tendou nodded slowly, looking confused by Tsutomu’s anger. “I made the trees grow in ways they were never meant to. I forced them to grow their roots under the graves so that I might find my Eita.”

“You said the forest was dying because your heart is broken,” Tsutomu shouted, betrayed.

“The heart of the forest needs a sturdy body to keep it alive,” Tendou retorted. “I am dying of a broken heart, witch boy. What I did to the trees was a result of my attempt to be with Eita one last time. What are a few trees? The forest will recoup their losses within an eyeblink after I’m dead and gone. I have protected them for thousands of years. I _must_ have his bones. I _must_.”

“But you’re _killing_ them!” Tsutomu reiterated. “You’re it’s _protector_ , you just said it yourself! How could you just kill them?!”

Tendou balked and shook his head. “You would not comprehend.”

“Don’t do that!” Tsutomu yelled, frustrated tears prickling at his eyes. He thought Tendou was his _friend_. “Don’t treat me like a child. You said you’re dying and that your forest won’t have anyone to protect it. But you’re the one killing it, and now people think there are demons in here, poisoning the water - and they’re _right_! How much of the Shiratorizawa lands have this rot deep in the earth? Do you have any idea what that will do to the animals? The humans? The _plants_?!”

Tsutomu had not truly felt that Tendou was a fae beyond understanding or compassion, since their first true conversation. Now he wished desperately that he’d never disobeyed his mother and entangled himself with Tendou.

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” Tendou dismissed him and stood up. “I will die in a fortnight. I have felt it coming.”

“You’re giving up?” Tsutomu felt the incipient loss as keenly as the betrayal, and blinked up at Tendou, throat tight with pain.

“It is over,” Tendou said, waving his gnarled hands in a dismissive gesture. He walked towards his hut, head hanging low. Tsutomu strode forward instinctively and shoved him hard in a fit of rage. Tendou whipped around faster than Tsutomu could move and grabbed his wrist. His eyes blazed with fury as his eyes went from red to black. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not,” Tsutomu spat back. “You’ll be dead in a fortnight like you said.”

“I may be dying but I am still fae, boy. I have been soft with you because I see no need to cause trouble for mortals like many of my brethren. But never forget what I am.” Tendou looked frightening for the first time, but Tsutomu batted away his fear, too focused on the fact that Tendou was giving up.

“There has to be another way,” Tsutomu half-demanded, half-begged. Another way for what, Tsutomu didn’t know, but everything felt like it was somehow spiraling out of control and he could barely hold on.

Tendou dropped his wrist and turned back to his hut again. Tsutomu lashed out and threw himself at the fae, heedless of Tendou’s warning. His hands never even touched Tendou before he was flat on his back gasping for air. Tendou lay over him, his head twisting, joints cracking with every movement. His hand plunged into Tsutomu’s chest.

The scream cut through the the preternatural stillness of the forest.

“I could eat your heart, witch boy, and live another fifty years.” Tendou’s cheeks cracked apart as his jaw distended, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Tsutomu couldn’t breathe. “I could eat the hearts of everyone in that village. I could destroy everyone until I found my Eita. When I say I have given up, know that I have merely spared your life and the lives of everyone who was responsible for taking him from me solely because he would not have wished me to raze the earth in his name.”

There was no life in the black pools of his eyes, just an endless void, and Tsutomu found himself drawn into it. Death didn’t seem frightening in that moment. It would be so easy to close his eyes and let Tendou pull his heart from his chest. It would be over so fast and the forest needed it. His heart would let the forest continue on, wasn’t that the right thing to do?

“Leave, witch boy.” Tendou’s voice croaked into his ear, heavy with sorrow and finality. The hand pulled free of his chest without a single sign of its passage. “Forget me and never come back.”

Tsutomu opened his eyes, never knowing when he’d shut them, and sat up, sucking in a deep breath. He grabbed at his chest with both hands, crying at the feel of his heart still beating beneath his ribs. He breathed heavily, and in complete disbelief that he was alive. 

Tendou stood in the middle of the clearing, body so still Tsutomu thought for a moment he might be dead after all, having expended the last of his energy warning Tsutomu way. Then he turned slowly, and his eyes met Tsutomu’s. There was rage, fear and shame in the slowly receding black. The last of it bled out as tears fell down his face. The cracks on his face remained, exposing his sharp teeth.

All of it served to remind Tsutomu just what Tendou was.

“It called you here so that I might take your heart,” he whispered. “The forest didn’t know what else to do, and so found a fearless heart, so like my Eita’s, that I might gather strength from it. I did what I did to try and fix my mistake. I only pushed the trees so hard to find Eita’s bones, so that I might heal my heart and perhaps protect my home a little longer.” He wept freely, clutching at his chest. “Fae were never meant to love as you mortals do. My love was my folly. It is my fault, and my fault alone that the forest will die.”

Tsutomu stared at him. Tendou was fae, certainly, but it was no longer all he was. Love may have been his folly, but he loved truly, and he’d - he’d been kind to Tsutomu, offering him a safe place to express himself.

After everything, even now, Tendou was his friend, and Tsutomu could not lose him.

“I don’t want you to die,” he cried, running forward and wrapping his arms around Tendou, who froze at the contact. “Please don’t die.”

Tendou rested his hand on top of Tsutomu’s head and petted his hair with a gentle touch. “It was decided long before you came here that I would. Had you not come looking for answers to your nightmares, you never would have known I was here. I am losing myself, I do not wish to harm you when my time draws near. So forget, my little witch boy.” He offered a rare, but genuine smile.

“What?” Tsutomu gasped looking up in shock. Tendou looked down at him, his lip trembled as he placed his hand against the side of Tsutomu’s face. “No, no, no, no,” he begged when he realized what was happening.

“I’m sorry,” Tendou breathed, and it was like an autumn wind caressing Tsutomu’s face.

Tsutomu tried to escape, but he could not compare to fae strength or fae reflexes, and he sobbed brokenly when he realized there was no way out. “Tendou, no, please, don’t do this. _Please_.”

“Forgive me, witch boy,” he whispered, and placed a kiss on Tsutomu’s forehead. “Forget me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves*
> 
> Hi there, if you like this fic, please leave a comment.
> 
> This has been nine months of my life and I get so little feedback on it. So please, leave a kind word. It makes me more enthusiastic about sharing the rest.


	5. Shadow to my Light

Sunlight warmed Tsutomu’s bed, rousing him from a deep and restful sleep. He opened his eyes slowly, sitting up to stretch his arms. His body felt light, and he couldn’t remember a time he’d slept better. Across the room Taichi stirred in his own bed and sat up quickly when he saw Tsutomu was awake.

“You feeling alright?” he asked, worry clear in his face.

“I feel great, actually,” Tsutomu said, despite having no recollection of when he’d gone to bed. 

“You didn’t come down for dinner last night and Reon found you asleep in bed. The sun hadn’t even gone down and… we were worried you’d gotten sick from something. Ushijima ordered the kitchen checked for anything that might have made you sick, especially when we tried to wake you and you refused to stir.” Taichi didn’t look convinced by Tsutomu’s easy recovery, staring like he expected Tsutomu to collapse again.

Tsutomu tried to remember what he’d done yesterday. He’d been in the stables with Shibata, and then there had been some sort of commotion at the cemetery. A memory struck him and he asked, “What’s happening with the graves?”

“Ushijima is having the bodies moved” Taichi explained. “They’re gonna inspect the cemeteries in the village too, since there’s a lot of dying trees there as well. Yamagata is already drafting up letters for the King. I think they’re gonna burn ‘em down.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Tsutomu said. If the trees were dying and probably spreading the disease to the trees around them, it would be best to burn them down and protect whatever healthy greenery remained. He didn’t want to think about the trees, though - there wasn’t much of interest in a bunch of dead or dying trees. “Wanna go for a ride with me today?”

Taichi narrowed his eyes at Tsutomu. “You’re not upset _at all_ that they’re going to burn down parts of the forest?”

“Should I be?”

“Tsutomu, you had, like, _months_ of dreams about those woods, you lost your _mother’s locket_ in there and you’re not upset that--” He paused when he saw Tsutomu pull his necklace out from under his tunic and show it to Taichi. “When did you...”

“I didn’t lose it in the woods,” Tsutomu explained easily, bright smile on his face, but Taichi looked utterly unconvinced. “I thought I did, but it was under my bed. Must have fallen off in my sleep.”

Taichi opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Ushijima and Reon walking into their bedroom. Both hurried to Tsutomu’s bedside the instant they saw he was awake, so Taichi shut his mouth but couldn’t hide the concerned look on his face. Tsutomu had little time to worry about it, however, as Ushijima and Reon were insistent on checking his vitals and then asking him question after question about how he felt.

Tsutomu didn’t remember much of the previous day, and insisted several times that no, he had not been drinking the dream tea again and he couldn’t explain why he had been so exhausted. In fact, he could barely remember the nightmares that had plagued him. When he realized that was the case, it unnerved him but he couldn’t seem to muster the energy to properly wonder about it. More importantly, Ushijima’s face filled with relief when he realized Tsutomu didn’t remember much about his dreams, and he decided it was better that they were becoming a distant memory. Reon was more concerned than relieved by this turn of events, but his attempt to ask more about what had changed was cut off by Ushijima.

“The nightmares were where all this trouble began,” Ushijima stated. “If Tsutomu no longer feels the burden of them, why should we make him remember?”

Reon looked as though he wished to protest, but maintained his silence in the wake of Ushijima’s stern expression. Tsutomu would bet that Ushijima would get an earful in private - likely from Soekawa rather than Reon, truthfully - but Reon was clearly reticent to aggravate his lord and his patient in one fell swoop.

“You had me worried,” Ushijima said, turning his attention back to Tsutomu. “You seemed very upset by what was found in the cemetery yesterday. I was concerned for you.”

Tsutomu furrowed his brow and tried to remember what had bothered him so much about the coffins. “You were correct to warn me away from the woods, Lord Ushijima. Obviously there is something dangerous in there that will be taken care of once the king's men come to clear it out.” It felt like the words were being spoken by someone else, but Tsutomu also couldn’t explain why he’d ever objected to them.

“That’s right.” Ushijima smiled, his lips barely quirking. The expression confused Tsutomu, as though he’d seen a smile like that somewhere. Like he was attempting to show his happiness with as little movement of his face as possible. “You are feeling well, though?”

“I feel like I got the perfect amount of sleep, sir,” Tsutomu assured, hoping he would be told he was still allowed to go for a ride as Ushijima had promised. He wanted to explore the area, maybe even ride up to the castle walls. The need to see it up close was at the forefront of his mind from the moment he’d awoken. That was far more interesting than some stupid dying forest - but first, breakfast. His stomach rumbled, and with that Reon declared him totally healthy. 

It took a fair bit of pleading and puppy eyes before Ushijima relented and gave Tsutomu permission to ride on his own. Even then, Ushijima still insisted on accompanying him to the stable to ensure that Tsutomu was capable of saddling the horse and preparing her for riding without assistance.

The horse had been a gift to Tsutomu when he’d been deemed old enough to ride on his own, but the gift was as much practical as anything, considering in his youth, Tsutomu had often been tasked with running messages and errands for wherever Ushijima and his people were at any given time. Ace had a calm temperament and their bond had been instant. Tsutomu had spent the first few days of ownership lovingly brushing her dapple gray hide and combing and braiding her black mane out of sheer delight that he had a horse to call his own. He’d not gotten to ride her much once they arrived in Shiratorizawa and she reacted with excitement at seeing him pull out her saddle.

“You keep the village within your sight,” Ushijima told Tsutomu as he checked over his straps. “You will return before the sun hits the horizon and join us for dinner.”

Tsutomu nodded with each command, but he was already jittery to go exploring. Ushijima helped him up into the saddle, and then gave him a sack with a waterskin and lunch for himself and the horse. Tsutomu thanked him and with hardly a look back he spurred the horse into a trot and rode her off the manor grounds and out into the valley.

Although the castle’s remains called to him, Ace deserved the chance to stretch her legs, and so did Tsutomu. With a whoop, Tsutomu spurred her into a gallop and took her for a run through the valley. The wind in his face and the sound of Ace’s hooves brought him so much delight he teared up from it, wild joy in his heart.

As the sun rose to the middle of the sky, however, he slowed from the gallop into a trot and directed Ace towards the hills where the castle stood. He was careful to stay off the road and not draw attention to himself. Ushijima would likely be very affronted if any in the village were to see his ward going to or coming from the abandoned fortress. 

He followed along the path a stream cut through the hill, urging Ace up over the slightly rocky terrain. He could see why the castle had been built here. The river nearby, the high hills, and the safety of the forest closing off the valley made it a perfect fortress. It had been built to hold the lord and his household, with additional room to shelter the people of the territory should any of them need to flee. Instead it had housed an unwilling army to a prideful lord, and he’d nearly destroyed the Shiratorizawa lands he’d been sworn to protect.

Washijou.

The Traitor Lord.

Washijou had taken every able bodied man from every village in Shiratorizawa to wage a war against the King. Washijou had believed that by spreading false rumors of the King being unfit to rule, he could march across the lands and bring each territory into his army until finally the whole kingdom was marching on Seijoh City.

Instead, his rebellion failed before the march across Miyagi could begin. 

A spy in the household had relayed every plan to the King, and on the day Lord Washijou had gathered his army within his castle walls, King Hisao Oikawa arrived with his own armies in tow. He offered Washijou one chance: come to the gates and surrender, or see his castle razed to the ground in a siege that would not end until every man inside the walls was dead. 

Washijou had not accepted the mercy of his king, and two thirds of his army perished in the siege; they were all low born men from the villages. He surrendered after six months, with only a handful of men left supporting his cause. 

His reward for surrender had been his death: hanged on the grounds of his castle along with what remained of his army and all of them buried in a mass grave at the center of the castle yard. The building itself had been left as a warning to all who might consider betraying their king and henceforth known as the Traitor’s Grave.

A chill ran down Tsutomu’s spine as he stared up at the high walls of the castle. Ace whinnied her displeasure at the eerie atmosphere now that they were so close, shaking her head and trampling at the ground. Tsutomu dismounted and comforted her, petting her snout and talking calmly to her.

“It’s okay, girl,” he cooed. “We’ll leave soon, I just wanna look a bit.”

Ace snorted and shook her head once more but allowed Tsutomu to lead her as he walked along the walls. There was the obvious wear and tear after a century of no maintenance, yet the walls still stood proud. Tsutomu stared up in awe at the brick that sealed the castles gates. The king had not been content to see the drawbridge raised; he wanted to make sure no one ever went back in, ever. 

There was a splash of blue growing all along the ground on the far side of the castle wall that caught Tsutomu’s attention. He ran forward to investigate, and found a large patch of beautiful blue flowers growing. He wished he’d paid enough attention to Reon’s lesson in the royal greenhouses at Seijoh to remember their name. As he reached down to pick some to bring home, however, stabbing pain throbbed in his chest.

He fell to his knees with a cry. The pain radiated out from his ribs and left him on the verge of vomiting. Ace whinnied and nudged the back of his head with her nose, pushing him to get up. He couldn’t at first, but Ace was insistent and Tsutomu stubbornly fought through the agony. He let her assist him with standing and leaned on her for support. His chest ached with every breath and he coughed several times, to no avail. 

The pain subsided as he and Ace walked away from the castle and he soon found the strength to mount the horse again and ride back to the manor. In fact, the further he got from the castle the more the pain diminished, and the less he could remember why he’d even wanted to go to the castle in the first place. He soon decided the blame lay on his hasty consumption of his lunch. The bacon sandwich obviously hadn’t agreed with him. He drank deeply from his waterskin, trying to erase the taste of bile from the back of his throat, and returned home.

The memory of the pain was long forgotten by the time he sat down to dinner. Everyone seemed to be in something of a jovial mood, and Tsutomu listened with delight as Soekawa told stories of what Ushijima had been like as a boy. Ushijima’s stoic face had a hint of pink to the cheeks as Soekawa seemed to be capable of telling an infinite number of stories that painted the serious Ushijima in a humorous light.

That quickly led to others sharing their own embarrassing stories about one another. Yamagata asked Ushijima to share one about Shirabu, much to his dismay. Ushijima had to be coaxed, but he was ultimately won over, and shared a story of the time Shirabu accidentally sent a love letter intended for Ushijima’s mother to a dignitary from Fukurodani. 

“It went over swimmingly, he was flattered!” Shirabu cried out, face beet red.

Still more stories poured forth. Taichi choked on his wine when Tsutomu recalled the first time he ever tried wall climbing. He’d made it halfway up the wall when he heard the unmistakable sound of his mother shrieking his name. His immediate reaction had been to throw his hands in the air to declare his innocence. 

“I fell backwards and landed in a vat of grapes that the neighbors had been crushing into wine,” Tsutomu explained as everyone roared with laughter and Taichi pounded him on the back. “I was purple for two days and the neighbors never forgave me for ruining what was apparently going to be the best harvest of the year.”

Even Shirabu smiled at the story and Tsutomu decided that perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all. 

Dinner had to end eventually, but Tsutomu laid in bed that night with a smile on his face, his eyes drooping. He felt light, as though he had not a worry left in the world. He pulled his mother’s locket out and ran his fingers lovingly over the engraving. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift to sleep.

*******

Eita woke up screaming. 

He fisted his hands in his black hair, remembering a reflection of a face that looked like his own from his dreams, with sunken eyes and stark white hair.

“Eita, are you all right?” Eiko appeared in his room in an instant. He stared at his twin for a heartbeat in confusion, momentarily forgetting where he was before he exhaled and shook his head. She sighed and crawled onto the bed, wrapping him in a hug. “Was it the one with the castle again?”

Eita nodded, pulling his legs to his chest. “You’ve got to get out of Shira Village. Tonight. Take mother and go.”

They rarely spoke about Eita’s premonitions, but that didn’t mean they didn’t listen to his warnings.

“What about you?” she asked, the shakiness of her voice belying the calm she attempted to exude as she rubbed gentle circles on his back. “You have to come with us.”

“Someone has to stay to keep them from finding out that you two are gone for good,” he whispered. “Take Goshiki with you too. Washijou has been taking men from the village, and if Goshiki doesn't leave, he will be conscripted. He’s a blacksmith, so I’m surprised he hasn’t been snatched up already and sealed behind the castle gates like everyone. Perhaps they simply haven’t yet thought of a lie they think we’ll buy if they try to steal him, but it’s only a matter of time. They’ll want someone who can forge and repair weapons. You should accept his proposal.”

“Why hasn’t the king come?” Eiko asked no one in particular as she wrapped her arms around his chest and propped her chin on his shoulder. She was shivering now, just like Eita was.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Perhaps he is unaware of what has happened. Washijou has all letters and correspondence monitored. More than half the army is loyal to him, even the ones who’ve been conscripted. He tells them what they want to hear. That he’ll make a better ruler than the Oikawa family.”

“Do you think he would?”

“I think I’ve grown tired of men too rich for their own good deciding what’s best for the people. The people should take care of themselves.”

“Do I hear treasonous talk coming from my children's mouths?” Their mother, Kaiya, ambled slowly into Eita’s room, her cane guiding her. Eita and Eiko split apart, making a space between them for her to sit, their heads immediately coming to rest on her shoulders. “Thought I raised you better than that. Wait until I’m in the room before we start spouting off about the uselessness of kings.” She took a hand from each and squeezed tight. “Tonight then.”

Eita nodded, leaning to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “I will get you out of the village tonight. I will leave the next day, to follow and make sure you are not being followed.”

Kaiya bit back a sniffle, and Eita tried to offer her a smile. “Are you sure? I know how much you love your forest and its guardian.”

“He was here before I ever even existed,” Eita said, the crack in his voice giving away the tears that had begun to fall. “He’ll be there when I come back.”

“I never even got to meet him,” Eiko sighed, somehow still stoic. “Typical, Eita. I wanted to give him a good discussion on how he needs to treat my baby brother. Still, despite all the pretty sons and daughters, of course you’d fall for...well.” She shook her head. “We’ll head to Aoba Johsai, it will at least be warmer there, and Seijoh city is apparently very beautiful. We’ll have to grow the herbs we need, Eita won’t need to forage anymore.”

That was perhaps the one silver lining. At least they wouldn’t lose their livelihood. Life was hard enough, when one’s mother was a witch and her twins had inherited all her talents and gifts. Not that the Semi family minded. They healed the sick and eased the dying into the next world. Kaiya and Eiko brewed the potions, while Eita braved the Satori woods for all the needed ingredients. They were a loved and well respected family, and Eita hated that they were abandoning the people who would need them with the troubling times coming to them. But there was nothing else to be done.

After all, Washijou wanted power, and the temptation of three witches was not to be overlooked.

As it was, Washijou had amassed his armies and would soon march across Miyagi, bringing the territoires under his rule to conquer the kingdom and see King Oikawa brought down. 

Eita had watched as more and more men were conscripted into Washijou’s army, saw the people brought in from surrounding villages to the castle to be armed and trained. He’d braved the trek through Satori woods once to bring a letter to Karasuno, to alert someone to their plight and the intentions of their lord. Still the king never arrived. 

He helped his mother pack for that night’s travel, while Eiko left to inform her suitor, now fiance, of their plans to leave the village. He’d known for some time that they would be wed, having seen their daughter, granddaughter, and great grandson in his dreams, though he did not share that with her. 

“You tell that fae prince of yours that he needs to watch over my baby,” Kaiya announced. Eita looked up to see that she had an old baby blanket in her hands. She touched the fabric tenderly, feeling over the places where she’d stitched it back together. 

Eita approached and brought those hands to his face, squishing his cheeks like he was still a child, blind eyes seeking his face on instinct alone.

“I’m twenty years old,” he griped, although she hadn’t said a word. “Hardly a baby.”

“You will always be my little Eita, no matter how big you grow.”

They pressed their foreheads together and Eita felt as though this was their real goodbye, no matter what happened that night. He’d been thirteen years old when she cut a lock of hair from her head, wrapped it in a scrap of cloth with a coin and a sprig of forget me nots; and hung it around his neck. “To keep you safe,” she’d whispered.

It hadn’t been needed. Eita was never safer than when he was in the Satori woods. The trees knew him, every animal within could sense him and would linger in his presence if he held still. He wore her charm always anyways, though the cloth of the bag had needed to be replaced several times over, but it had never left his neck. He would hold it in times of stress, to ground him with the memory of the woman who was his rock. 

Eiko returned, drawing Eita and Kaiya out of the sorrow of the moment. She danced into the bedroom, holding her left hand out for Eita to see. A simple silver band, with flowers carved into the metal. She put her hand in Kaiya’s so that her mother could feel it. They began to talk of the possibilities of a spring wedding, and the chance to grow much more vibrant flowers. Eita allowed them their happiness and let himself wander back to his own bedroom, his thoughts on the last time he’d been in the woods.

He’d walked the familiar route through the forest, though no actual footpath existed. Even if it did he would not need it. The forest held no mysteries for him, and he could never get lost in them, not with the guardian watching over him. For once he had not been there to search for potion components, but on a rather different kind of quest. 

Even now he could hear the waterfall long before he made it to the clearing. At the center was a deep pool fed by the slow cascade, surrounded by weeping willows whose branches dipped into the water. Eita had stripped as he approached the lagoon and left his clothes in a pile next to a tree. The water felt warm against his skin and he sank happily into it, dipping his head under the water and letting it envelop him. 

Something had brushed against his leg. He hadn't flinched, but instead slowly rose back up above the water, then shifted to float on his back. It was easy to lose himself in the feeling of soft touches all over his body. Gentle fingers caressed every inch of him. Eita had let himself be pulled below the water again, and he smiled when he felt lips touching his own. He wouldn't drown, he knew this, and his faith was rewarded. As he kissed his phantom companion, he felt breath given to him with each touch of their lips. He cupped a face he had known and loved for years.

With a grin, he had pulled away and kicked back up to the surface. The fae rose from the water slowly, letting only his eyes appear above the water. The branches that sprouted from his head were bare of flowers, but Eita knew once he was dry they would bloom again. It was his eyes that Eita never wanted to look away from. Red like blood, like the sky at sunset, like life itself, those eyes had captivated him since the moment he first saw them.

“Come here,” he had whispered, beckoning the fae over with a crook of his finger.

The fae had shaken his head, staying put and watching Eita intently. Eita swam forward, reaching out to tip the fae’s chin up out of the water. He stroked his fingertips over his cheeks, his lips, and up to the tips of the branches. 

“Hello,Tendou” Eita had whispered against his lips, sealing them with a kiss. The fae slipped his tongue into Eita’s mouth and he tasted the entirety of the forest with it. It tasted like spring days, autumn nights, winter storms, and summer rain.

Eita had let himself be lost in Tendou as they floated in the lagoon, and wished he was with Tendou to lose himself now. He wanted the safety of Tendou’s arms desperately. The water had been warm, like sinking into a bath after a long day, and Eita shivered with the memory of it. 

“Hold your breath,” Tendou had whispered, pulling them underwater. When Eita breathed air again he was lying in a bed of moss, Tendou bare beside him. He smiled and brought Tendou’s lips back to his own, drinking in the taste of the forest and the magic brimming within it. Intoxicated always by the overwhelming feeling of Tendou’s love.

“Semi-Semi,” Tendou murmured, trailing his lips down Eita’s chest. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Eita moaned at Tendou’s touch. “I missed you so much.”

He’d drowned in Tendou’s touches letting himself fall into the spell. Tendou was fire, earth, air, he was everything all at once and Eita lived for the feeling. He drank life from Tendou’s lips. Felt the wind of a rainstorm on his skin when Tendou stroked his fingers down his legs. Lightning crackled along his spine when Tendou was finally inside him. Eita’s toes curled and he cried out, arching up into the fae, scrambling to bring him closer.

“Tendou,” Eita whispered, hands caressing the sides of his face. “I love you.”

Tendou had smiled and kissed a trail from Eita’s forehead, down the bridge of his nose and finally ending on his lips. “You hold my heart Eita, and there will never be another who could claim it. Stay with me.”

Eita had known the question would come someday. He’d carried on with Tendou for years knowing the fae would someday ask to claim him. To keep him always. Now with war on the horizon and his family in danger, the answer was clear.

“Until the war passes, I cannot say yes,” he said, soberly. “I have to protect my family, just as you must protect your forest. So long as I breathe I must make sure they are safe. We’re escaping to Seijoh, to get away before any of us can be taken by Washijou. But I swear to you, I will come back. When I know they are safe, when the war ends, I will come back to you.” Eita had stared up at Tendou, praying he would understand. Eita loved Tendou, but he could not choose him so long as his family was at risk.

Tendou had sat up and took Eita’s hands into his own. He looked contemplative. “You’ll come back to me and be mine always?”

“Yes,” he had laughed, pressing soft kisses all over Tendou’s face. “I will be yours.”

“Come to me with nothing,” Tendou had whispered in his ear. “Once you are past the mortal barriers, strip to nothing, for you won’t need any of it anymore. I will clothe you in the leaves of my trees and crown you with my flowers. I want to see you as only I get to see you. Stripped to the bone, your heart exposed for my forest to love, as you love me.”

***

Kaiya and Eiko disappeared into the night with Goshiki the blacksmith, never to be heard from again.

However, Eita did not guard their path as promised. He did not follow them, and see them in their new home, and at last lay his fears to rest before returning to Tendou in the heart of the woods, to live out his days with his love.

Washijou stole him first.

Eita was kidnapped in the early dawn after his family left by soldiers of Washijou, conscripted into the war for his healing abilities and knowledge. Eita had tried to fight them off, desperate to run for the edges of the trees, knowing if he could only cross the border he would be safe. But a swift punch to the gut ended all chances of escape. 

And so instead he sought to fight his way out of the castle instead.

After two months he gave up fighting, and the scars on his knuckles grew so terrible that he stopped being able to hold a proper fist. Of course, that was nothing to the scars from the whippings he had endured. They might need to keep him alive and capable of doing his work, but they were willing to do anything that would not prevent his purpose from being fulfilled. But word soon spread of the upcoming march across Miyagi and Eita’s plans were all that kept him from losing hope. He would use the distraction of the march to disappear into the trees. 

Eita could survive this, if only he could be patient a little while longer, let himself appear to be meek and broken just as Washijou and his men hoped.

And then the king appeared.

Eita wept at the sight of the king’s banners flying on the road outside the castle. There was no escape for Eita now. He would never be able to leave the walls of the castle alive - either Washijou’s men would kill him, or King Oikawa’s would. All he could hope for was the chance that if he begged, he might be buried near the trees. Surely Tendou would find him there. 

As though the fates had not cursed Eita enough, an illness broke through the castle from the tight quarters that came with being under siege. Men were coughing up blood and dying within days of catching the disease, and those were the lucky ones. The unlucky ones spend weeks coughing, never knowing relief until finally drowning in their own blood as they slept. Eita knew how to cure it, and did his best to make enough of the potion to save everyone, but supplies dwindled. He begged anyone who would listen that they needed to find a way to get out of the castle, even if it meant surrendering themselves to the king and begging to be spared. They needed to rise up against Washijou and free themselves - Eita demanded, time and again, “Aren't you loyal to your king before your lord?”

But the anger among the soldiers was no longer directed at their lord for conscripting them. It was for the king who kept them locked in the castle to die. 

Eita’s once black hair had gone gray, with only a hint of the former color lingering in the tips. His cheeks were hollow and he could count every one of his ribs. He could feel the bones of his spine protruding through the skin when he stretched to relieve the aches and pains. It was now starvation as much as illness that was killing the men, and that Eita could not cure.

And then Eita awakened one morning to find blood on his own pillow, and the grief ate away at the last of his reason. It would only be a matter of time. He’d been able to fight off most of the effects with what little herb he had squirreled away, but now he was out. Soon his lungs would fill with blood and he would drown in his sleep. He walked up to the ramparts, staring blankly at the exhausted, defeated faces of the men and women around him until he stood on the ramparts, wrapped in a threadbare cloak, and stared out at the trees of Satori Forest. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the feel of Tendou and his embrace. 

Spring day, autumn night, winter storm, summer rain.

Then came the sound of a horn and Eita wept. 

It was the horn of surrender. 

Lord Washijou rode out to King Oikawa bearing the white flag and Eita wept tears of joy, which turn to grief as it is announced that every man within the castle is to be executed as a traitor. There is no trial, no chance to defend or explain themselves. 

They are all traitors to the crown.

The gallows are built and raised in a day and Eita watches it all with a bone deep weariness and emptiness. 

He has nothing left, after all, not even the security that his family or Tendou will know what became of him.

As the rope was looped around his neck he stared out at a face that didn’t belong to the rest of the grey crowd, a spot of brightness. It was a young boy that Eita didn’t recognize, except for how he _did_. He had Kaiya’s mouth, black hair like Eita and Eiko had shared, and a terrible, confused grief on his face as he watched Eita prepare to die. 

A premonition. Despite everything he had endured, he was being given a premonition here, now, and Eita could sob. He was asked what his final words were and he spoke them to the lost boy whose eyes wouldn’t leave his.

“I know you’re scared and you’re confused. I know that right now all you want to do is wake up from this nightmare,” Eita said, head held high even as tears flowed freely leaving trails on his dirt stained face. “But don’t forget me. Don’t let me rot here. Please. I need to be with the trees. My heart belongs to the forest. Please let me rest there. Please… please save me--”

Eita closed his eyes and the floor dropped out from under him. 

Eita’s neck snapped, and he died.

_One hundred years later..._

Tsutomu’s scream broke the dead silence of the night and echoed through the infirmary. He sat up in a fright, clutching his throat. He felt as though his throat was closing up and he pushed himself to breathe, panicking when the air itself seemed to choke him. Something warm and wet fell down his chin and he wiped it away, eyes widening in horror at the blood coating his fingers. He coughed hard, gasping for air before fainting in shock at the spray of red that spewed from his mouth onto his sheets as he collapsed.


	6. Set my Heart on Fire

The one benefit to fainting was that he didn’t dream while he was passed out. The blackness that overtook him was a welcome relief from the pain and fear he’d experienced in his dreams. Everything had felt so real to him. The man’s name stayed on the tip of his tongue. 

_Eita... Eita_. 

Tsutomu wondered who he was and why he’d dreamt about him. Had he eaten something that made him hallucinate? Tsutomu was certain the castle Eita had died at was Traitors’ Grave. He was also certain the flowers he’d seen the strange creature give Eita were the ones he’d seen growing outside the castle walls. 

Parts of the dream faded though, no matter how Tsutomu tried to cling to them. He couldn’t remember the names of the man’s sister or mother at all. He remembered the shock on Eita’s face when he’d looked in the mirror and had seen his black hair gone to gray. The agony he felt when he’d coughed up that first bit of blood. The knowledge that he would never make it back to the woods. 

_“He’s been in the forest. That could be what did it.”_

_“I expressly forbade him from going there.”_

Voices crawled into his consciousness and pulled him out of the deep, dark sleep he’d happily sank into.

_“He’s a young boy, you can’t expect him to be obedient always.”_

_“I was always obedient.”_

_“Wakatoshi, sometimes I wonder if you ever were a child.”_

Tsutomu stirred and blearily opened his eyes. Soekawa sat at his bedside, hands resting on top of his cane, listening to Reon and Ushijima talk in hushed whispers. He turned his gaze towards Tsutomu when he stirred and silently stroked his head. 

“The boy is waking up,” he stated, putting a hand up when both Reon and Ushijima started forward. “Do not crowd him, he’s been through enough, don’t you think? Reon, please bring me a wet cloth, he’s still very warm.” Neither man looked pleased with Soekawa’s pronouncement, but obeyed.

Tsutomu tried to speak but his throat was so dry and sore it only caused him pain. Ushijima sensed his distress and knelt by his side, helping him drink small bits of water. Tsutomu was shocked to see that his eyes were bloodshot, like he had been crying. He wondered what could have made Ushijima cry. Had something terrible happened? Ushijima had not even cried when news of his father’s death had come. He simply nodded and retired to his rooms for the rest of the day. 

Tsutomu let himself be propped up against the pillows when the worst pain of his throat had been soothed. He absentmindedly reached for his mother’s locket and panicked when it wasn’t there. 

Soekawa leaned over before he could ask after it and took his hand, placing the necklace into it. “It’s got a bit of blood on it. I haven’t had the chance to clean it for you.”

Reon examined him, checking his pulse, temperature and asked him to breathe while he pressed first his hand and then his ear against his chest. He explained that Tsutomu had suffered a nose bleed in his sleep, and that the spray of blood that had caused him to faint was just the remnants that had fallen down the back of his throat. 

Tsutomu held the locket close to his chest and let himself shed a few tears, the memories of his dream eating at the edges of his consciousness. Tsutomu thought about his ride out to the castle, of the blue flowers, and again of Eita; dried blood on his chin, accepting his death with dignity. 

Ushijima cleared his throat loudly, putting a hand out to end the line of conversation where it stood. “I would like some time alone with Tsutomu, please.”

There was no arguing with the tone in his voice. It was not a request, it was a command delivered courteously. 

Reon gave Tsutomu a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and ignored Soekawa’s protests as Reon helped escort the blind healer out out, stating that while he knew Soekawa didn't need his help, he felt like giving it anyways. Tsutomu couldn’t meet Ushijima’s gaze and kept his head bowed low, even as the man came to sit on the bed next to him.

“Have you been in the forest Tsutomu?” Ushijima asked him, voice grave but strained. 

Tsutomu nodded, not even bothering to explain it had only been the one time. His head pounded and he couldn’t figure out what was causing the pain. Only that every time he thought of the trees it felt like something was digging into his skull. 

Ushijima’s eyes were intent as he lifted Tsutomu’s chin. Tsutomu’s breath caught at the intensity of that golden gaze. “You must promise never to return there. The King is sending men in a fortnight to tear down the decayed parts of the forest and burn them. They will then determine if any part of the Satori woods can be saved. We don’t know what has caused the roots to… you saw what they did. Promise me. Promise me you will not go back in there.”

“I promise.”

***

_“Wake up, Tsutomu,” says a voice. Whoever they are, their voice is not suited to kindness. Time has worn away any kindness the speaker was capable of, and now it’s only grief and pain._

_Tsutomu’s eyes open, and he’s in a never ending expanse of white void. There is nothing around him as far as he can see. His feet may not even be touching the ground, though he feels he is standing on a solid surface. “Where am I?”_

_“Dreams,” the voice says with measured softness. “Your dreams, my dreams, though how I am dreaming is beyond me.”_

_Eita stands in the void with him, eyes sad, as gaunt and broken as he was the day he died. Tsutomu takes a hesitant step towards him. Eita’s eyes still hold all the rage he’d kept inside his heart, mouth drawn in a permanent frown. “I’m still dead.”_

_“You’re real,” Tsutomu breathes. “It’s real, the dream was_ real _, I saw your_ life _.”_

_“You did,” Eita agrees. “I’m sorry that you had to see it as you did. But I felt you, I felt you so close to my bones--I felt him.” The fury cracks, shatters, and Eita begins to weep. “and I couldn’t stop myself.”_

_“I don’t understand,” Tsutomu says._

_“I’m the reason for the… blood. Also for what is going to be a rough few days for you.” Eita tells him. “An unfortunate side effect of… what I did.”_

_“You made me sick?”_

_“Not intentionally,” he insists, voice frantic, and his hand squeezes tightly, afraid to let Tsutomu go. “I didn't mean to, I swear. But I couldn’t let you go. You’ve seen him. He’s still alive.”_

_“Who?” Tsutomu asks, crying for the tears that Eita weeps. “Who?”_

_“Tendou.”_

_“The fae?” Tsutomu remembers a strange creature from Eita’s life. “The fae who loved you? I don’t know him.”_

_“Yes, you do,” Eita protests. “I felt him, I felt him here with you somehow. You’ve seen him! He gave you a gift. Tsutomu, please, you have to remember. When you wake up I beg you, please, open the locket and remember. Remember him, remember me, and save me.”_

_“How?”_

_“Find my bones, Tsutomu. I will lead you to them. But you have to open the locket. The answer is in the locket.”_

_“What's in my locket?”_

_The dream was fading all around him and Eita’s tears turned to frantic attempts to keep Tsutomu with him._

_“The answer, Tsutomu! Please, open the locket!”_

Tsutomu felt himself being pulled by an invisible hand and jerked upright, sucking in air like his life depended on it. He clutched at his head, wanting the fog to lift, because something was sitting inside his skull begging to come out. He coughed and grimaced at the blood on his hand. His entire body ached as though he’d been running drills for a week straight. 

He reached blindly for his locket from the bedside table, cursing as his bloody fingers slipped over the metal in his haste to get it open. He stared in shocked silence at the blue flowers resting on top of his mother’s hair. Blue flowers he certainly hadn’t put inside the locket, blue flowers, blue flowers…

He lifted the sprig and shuddered at the sensation running down up his spine into his skull. The fog that had clouded his mind peeled away and he could hardly wipe the blood away from his nose again before he collapsed backwards onto the pillow. His eyelids fluttered as memories flooded his mind.

“Forget me nots,” he whispered. “They’re forget me nots.”

Tsutomu fell in and out of consciousness over the next three days as a fever overtook him. 

The household took turns sitting at his bedside to assist in whatever way was needed. They offered him water, cooled his fever, and sometimes kept him from falling out of the bed when he would have fits in his sleep. 

He was never sure what time it was when he awoke. The windows were kept covered and only low light filled the room, likely to help him stay asleep. He sometimes heard the conversations going on around him. Ushijima spoke in low tones, but the commanding nature of his presence remained even in hushed whispers and Tsutomu couldn’t help but be soothed by it. Tsutomu was certain at one point he heard Shirabu speaking to him, too. No one else’s voice sounded like his, soothing words spoken in a condescending tone.

“Don’t you dare die,” Shirabu seethed once, his voice sounded… wet. Tsutomu stirred enough to open his eyes and looked blearily into Shirabu’s splotchy, red face. He started, but didn’t remove himself from where he sat on Tsutomu’s bed. “You look like him.”

“I do?” Tsutomu asked, not sure who ‘him’ was. “Is that why you hate me?”

Shirabu’s eyes widened and he shoved the heel of his palm into his eyes, wiping away his tears. “I don’t hate you. At least, I don’t hate you any more than I did when I first laid eyes on you.”

Tsutomu furrowed his brow and tried to make sense of what Shirabu was saying. But when he went to speak all he could do was cough as his throat closed up. He struggled to breathe, Shirabu helping prop him up while calling out for Reon. Tsutomu tried to ask Shirabu why he was being so nice to him, but all that came from his mouth was bile as he threw up.

_“Come with me, into the trees,” Eita sings softly, walking through the forest. Tsutomu walks beside him, enjoying the warmth of the sun and cool grass beneath his feet. Eita still looks as sickly as the last time they’d seen each other. His fingertips have gone black. “We lay on the grass and let the hours pass.”_

_“Take my hand,” whispers a soft voice ahead of them. It’s familiar, and Tsutomu finally recognizes it as Tendou. He sounds like every word is a struggle to speak. “Come back to the land, let’s get away, just for one day.”_

_“Did you open the locket?” Eita asks._

_“I did, but how do I know this is real,” Tsutomu asks. “I opened the locket and I’m - sick. I think I’m sick. There were...flowers inside. And Tendou said the forest was calling me. Luring me to him so he could take my heart and live longer.”_

_“You have to trust me,” Eita begs, gripping Tstutomu’s arm._

_“I can’t.”_

***

On the fourth day, Tsutomu’s fever broke. He was able to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time, and able to hold down bread and broth. Ushijima spent the afternoon reading to him, which was an unexpected but pleasing delight. Tsutomu had always been fond of the storybooks Soekawa kept in his collection, and Ushijima had decided to read to him in an effort to cheer him up. However, he had decided to read from the book of strange and grim fairy stories, not the adventure tales Tsutomu was more interested in.

“Next morning, when the sisters woke,” Ushijima intoned, his voice never rising or falling even when the stories hit moments of excitement or danger. “And went to the house-door together, there stood a most wonderful splendid tree, with leaves of silver, and fruit of gold hanging between them. Nothing more beautiful or charming could be seen in the wide world. But they did not know how the tree had come there in the night. Little Two Eyes alone noticed that it had grown out of the heart of the goat, for it stood just where she had buried it in the ground.” 

He frowned, reading ahead only a little bit before continuing. “Then the mother said to Little One Eye, ‘Climb up, my child, and gather us some fruit from the tree.’ “Little One Eye climbed up, but when she wanted to seize a golden apple, the branch sprang out of her hand; this happened every time, so that she could not gather a single apple, though she tried as much as she could. “Then the mother said, ‘Little Three Eyes, do you climb up; you can see better about you with your three eyes than Little One Eye can.’”

Tsutomu bit back a laugh at the consternated way Ushijima stared at the words in front of him. “Little One Eye scrambled down, and Little Three Eyes climbed up. But Little Three Eyes was no cleverer, and might look about her as much as she liked–the golden apples always sprang back from her grasp. At last the mother became impatient, and climbed up herself, but could touch the fruit just as little as Little One Eye or Little Three Eyes; she always grasped the empty air. “Then Little Two Eyes said, ‘I will go up myself; perhaps I shall prosper better.’ “‘You!’ cried the sisters. ‘With your two eyes, what can you do?’”

Ushijima paused and stared at the book with furrowed brows. He sighed, looking up at Tsutomu and then back down to the book. "This fairy tale makes no sense,” he declared. “How is the daughter who looks like everyone else the one who is scorned? Should it not be the one eyed daughter? How many eyes does the mother have, if she is so scornful of a two eyed child? If everyone else has two eyes, shouldn't the strange eyed daughters be the shameful ones... why are you laughing at me?"

Tsutomu clutched his stomach, giggling uncontrollably. “It’s just a fairy story, I don’t think they’re supposed to make sense.”

“You enjoy these tales with no purpose?”

“The truth, sir,” Tsutomu admitted, blushing in embarrassment, “is I’ve never read that one. But you were very insistent on reading it to me. So I thought perhaps you enjoyed them.

“I do not,” Ushijima announced. Dropping the book to the ground as though it had offended him, immediately picking it up to dust it off and return it to the shelf. “My mother tried to read these stories to me as a child. I did not enjoy them then either. My brother did, though.”

“You don’t talk about him much.” Tsutomu wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask about the mysterious brother. But since Ushijima brought it up first, he thought it might be permissible. “You must miss him greatly.”

“More than I have words to explain,” Ushijima replied, staring out the window as though the man might appear there. “But there is something important I wish to discuss with you.”

Tsutomu nodded, sitting back against the pillows, his hands folded neatly.

“Tsutomu,” Ushijima began, voice shaking ever so slightly. “You are going to be a man grown soon. It is important when you come of age to enlist within a skill or to decide a future for yourself.” He paused and looked down at his hands, fisting them together before smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles from his trousers. “As you know, given the fact that my personal business is shared by everyone in this household, I’m sure it will come as no surprise to hear that I do not intend to marry. I have known for quite some time that it is not in my interests to do so. Marriage should be something entered into with an open and honest heart, something I have no desire to pursue, as it is not within me to be that sort of man. It would be dishonest of me to marry another.”

Tsutomu looked up to see Ushijima staring at the wall, eyes wet with tears he knew would not be permitted to fall. He wondered how long Ushijima had wrestled with that decision. He was a high born man, raised even higher, expected of course to take a wife and have heirs. To go against what was expected of him took what Tsutomu could only imagine was a great deal of bravery. Ushijima turned and they held each other’s gaze for a moment. “I would name you my heir, Tsutomu.”

Tsutomu’s mouth dropped in shock, mind completely blank for a moment. His hand shook as he pointed to himself and mouthed ‘me?’ 

Ushijima nodded, then turned back to the windows. “I see in you many of the qualities of the men in my family. Headstrong, brave, compassionate, and caring. I would rather name you my heir, than have the unworthy sons of nobles and lesser nobles thrust at me once it becomes more public knowledge that I will not be wed.”

Silence sat between them as Tsutomu let the weight of the words spoken to him settle. His mind was a foggy wash of the dream, the aftermath, and now this revelation, all while trying to recover from his illness. Ushijima wished to name him heir, he would someday be a lord. The manor he slept in would be his one day, Reon and Shirabu would… they would serve him as they served Ushijima. It would all come to him. 

He was the orphan son of a witch and a soldier. 

How in the world did Ushijima see in him the qualities of a lord?

“Don’t think about it now,” Ushijima interrupted, as though he might know where Tsutomu’s thoughts were headed. “You’ve had a arduous time, and perhaps now was not the correct moment to tell you these things. But I felt something pleasant to look forward to would bring you comfort during your recovery.”

Ushijima ruffled his hair, offering a small but genuine smile. “I have duties to attend to. Eventually I will have papers drafted up. Shirabu will take care of the legal matters at hand. I’ve also looked into having your mother’s grave attended to on a more frequent basis. I thought that might assuage you as well.”

It was - it was an embarrassment of riches, far more than Tsutomu knew how to receive with the grace such a gift required.

“It does,” Tsutomu croaked, struggling to get the words out around his tight throat “Thank you, sir.”

“You are welcome.” Ushijima paused again, his lips pursed together in a frown. “Rest now, Reon will be here later to have supper with you. Hopefully tomorrow we will see about getting you on your feet again.”

“Sir?”

“Yes.”

“Would we be,” Tsutomu chewed his lip, unsure if he should even ask. “Would that make us family?”

Ushijima’s mouth quivered for a second before it stilled, and he nodded. “Yes, we would be family.”

A smile tugged at Tsutomu’s own mouth. “Does that mean I can call you Uncle Waka?”

“Absolutely not,” Ushijima replied severely as he turned to leave, spine straight and shoulders high. Then he stopped, glancing over his shoulder, and the quiver at his mouth was one of happiness, not long-remembered grief. “But perhaps… Uncle Toshi… in private.”

***

_“Why don’t you trust me?”_

_“You possessed me!” Tsutomu yells, trying to escape from Eita. He’s sick of this dream. Sick of being in the forest with him every night._

_“Not fully!” he argues, as if that somehow makes it better. “It was a partial possession. One that couldn’t have even been done if not for our bond.”_

_“Just because we both knew the fae doesn’t make us bonded!”_

_“That’s…” Eita sighs. “That’s not our bond. Don’t you realize who I am?”_

_He holds up his hand and his palm splits as though it’s been cut by an invisible knife. He takes Tsutomu’s hand and the same occurs for him, blood pooling. Tsutomu cries though he feels no pain. Eita presses their palms together, locking his fingers with Tsutomu’s. Tsutomu feels a warmth spread through him, a violet light shines between their hands._

_“We share blood, Tsutomu,” Eita says, his eyes bright with the same glow that lingers between their joined palms. “Eiko Semi was my twin sister, and she married Goshiki the blacksmith, and had a daughter. That daughter gave birth to Kaiya Goshiki.”_

_“Who gave birth to me,” Tsutomu breathes, finishing his sentence. “You’re my… we’re family.”_

_“I am your great uncle, yes,” Eita laughs, the sound is weak, much like his appearance. The spark in his eyes is the only thing about him that never dims. “I thought you’d realized that from your dreams. When I told my sister to accept the proposal.”_

_Tstutomu makes a face, but he can’t help the way his heart beats faster with tentative joy. He has a family. He’s speaking to his family, however distant. “I was a bit distracted by, everything else really.”_

_Eita sighs and pulls him in for a hug and this time, Tsutomu doesn’t fight Eita’s attempt to hold him close. “It might sever our connection, my magic is weak. But I think there is someone you need to see.” He takes a deep breath and hums a soft melody. Tsutomu’s heart pounds in his chest, because the tune draws on a memory and he knows it, he knows that song._

_“Mama,” he whispers, and turns._

_“My son,” Kaiya says. Tsutomu cries, throwing himself into her arms. She smells like honeysuckle and camelias, her warmth fills a hole that has been inside him for five years. “Oh, I have missed you so much.”_

_“Not as much as I missed you, Mama,” Tsutomu insists, holding her ever tighter. It's strange to be holding her when he stands this tall. He never got the chance to grow past her, only just meeting her at eye level before he was sent away. Now she is small, and he feels like he could bring her back if only he was strong enough to never let her go. “I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do.”_

_His mother lifts his chin and stares deep into his eyes. “Family,” she says. “Family is the most important thing there is. I know it's scary to be caught between both of yours.”_

_“Both of mine?” Tsutomu asks, confusion settling into him. “Mama I don’t understand.”_

_“He didn’t tell you,” Kaiya sighs, and looks to Eita with sadness in her eyes. “You boys, always making such a mess.” Eita looks away, grief on his face again._

_“Tell me what?” he cries. “Stop talking in riddles, all of you! I hate it. Just tell me the truth. Why does everyone always hide things from me!” The space around them grows black and the sound of thunder rumbles in the distance. Kaiya disappears like a ghost in the mist. Eita stands motionless, the wind buffeting him, his skin deathly pale, the blackness on his fingertips now extends to his palms. “How am I supposed to trust you now?”_

_“The answer is in the locket,” Eita says in Kaiya’s voice. “Inside the locket you will find a picture of your father. Look into his eyes and you will see the eyes of the man who will tell you the truth.”_

Tsutomu sat up in a fright, fingers clawing at the blankets. “Stop lying to me!” he cried out, burying his face into his hands. “I can’t do this. The dreams, make them stop. Please let me have the tea again. I’m scared, please I’m so scared and I don’t know what’s real anymore!”

Nothing but the empty echoes of the infirmary answered him. The moon sat low in the sky, telling him it was still early evening. He put his hand to his chest like always, before ripping the locket away from his neck with a anguished yell. The chain snapped from the force and Tsutomu hurled the necklace across the room. “Stop using her to lie to me!”

“Tsutomu, what the hell!” Taichi yelled, walking into the room and dodging the necklace as it flew towards him. It skittered across the floor, smacking into the wall. 

“I need the dreamless tea,” Tsutomu whimpered. “Please, please find Reon and tell him I need it. Please I can’t sleep another night without it… and, and,” his voice wavered with tears. “Please pick my locket back up.”

Taichi sighed, looking concerned, but handed it back to him before backing away slowly from the room. Tsutomu could hear his footsteps quicken as he went down the hallway. He imagined Taichi was probably madly searching the manor for Reon, and would likely say Tsutomu had gone crazy. 

The locket didn’t appear to be damaged, but the chain was destroyed. He opened the clasp and breathed a sigh of relief that his mother’s portrait remained untouched. He ran his thumb over it softy, sniffling at the memory of getting to hold her again. Carefully, with slow and steady breaths, he popped open the frame over her portrait and carefully lifted the canvas out. Underneath the picture was another, this one of a man. 

Tsutomu stared at the man and finally saw what his mother had said he would see. 

The eyes of the man who would tell him the truth.

Tsutomu forced himself out of bed and trudged up the stairs to Ushijima’s study before Taichi or Reon could return. His lungs screamed and his joints ached. He pushed the door open with all the strength he could muster and it hit the wall with a soft thud. Ushijima and Shirabu looked up at him, wide eyed with shock. 

“Tsutomu,” Ushijima began, but Tsutomu silenced him in an instant.

“Who is my father?” he demanded, and held up the locket in front of him like a letter of damnation. Shirabu looked to Ushijima, then back to Tsutomu, a look of barely concealed fear on his face. 

“I know you know,” Tsutomu screamed, legs shaking as he struggled to stay standing. “Look me in the eye and tell me his name!”

“Tsutomu Ushijima,” he answered, chin high, hands somehow still steady. Tsutomu hated his composure, and hated even worse the words that came next: "My brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...
> 
> I have been wanting to post this chapter since day one. Seriously this is probably my favorite of all of them. Mostly because I never intended for that twist to happen. In the early stages, Ushijima was simply going to adopt Goshiki, I had never intended for him to be related to him.
> 
> But somewhere along the planning it occured to me that Goshiki needed family, and once he became Ushijima's nephew in the end it seemed only fitting that he and Semi should have a connection as well. Also it's the reason Semi was able to grasp onto him as much as he did, their shared blood makes the magic stronger.
> 
> Thank you as always to Rosa and Snow, and to all of you who keep up and comment. Thank you so much


	7. I Can Feel my Death

Tsutomu spent two days in a daze of disbelief, depression, and denial. He’d screamed until his throat went dry and his voice disappeared. He’d used words and phrases he hadn’t even known existed. 

All of them designed to make Ushijima feel as broken and hurt as he did. 

He’d even thrown a few at Shirabu for good measure. The look in his eyes was all Tsutomu had needed as confirmation that Tsutomu’s parentage wasn’t news to him. He’d known, he’d always known, and his poor treatment of Tsutomu now had an explanation behind it. Tsutomu was the bastard son of a noble, a stain on the honor of the household, and Shirabu hated him for it. 

Reon had dragged him from Ushijima’s study, still screaming and sobbing, though by that point most of what came out of his mouth was strained and unintelligible. Ushijima hadn’t fought him once. Tsutomu hated him for his stoicness, for the way he’d barely flinched at every insult thrown his way. 

Two days of dreamless sleep, Reon had begrudgingly allowed him the tea, and diligence in his lessons and chores despite an inability to speak; allowed him his free day, which he spent in the stables, tending to Ace. 

He’d brushed her coat, cleaned her hooves, even braided her mane and tail. The rest of the afternoon was spent curled up in her stall to avoid having to go back into the house. He’d run out of tears the night of the revelation. Now all he had was a deep pit in his chest, a hole that might never be filled.

He’d refused to put his mother’s necklace back on. Her betrayal was just as sharp as Ushijima’s. She’d never once told him. Instead she’d kept the secret as well, let the face of his father hide behind her own. All the while leaving him alone in the world, thinking he was never going to have a family again.

“Tsutomu,” Reon called from the stable doors. “Are you in here?”

“Yes,” he muttered, hoping perhaps Reon wouldn’t hear him. But the sounds of Reon’s robes swishing along the ground dashed that hope to the ground. 

“Thought I would find you with her,” Reon noted, remaining in the doorway to Ace’s stall. “How are you feeling?”

“A little drowsy,” Tsutomu answered, staring at the wall in front of him. They both knew he wasn’t asking about his level of energy, but Tsutomu wasn’t going to talk to Reon about _feelings_. He wasn’t going to talk to _anyone_ about that. Not even Taichi, who’d gently pushed to get him to at least open up about what had transpired between him and Ushijima. “I won’t drink the tea again for two days, as agreed.”

Reon sighed. “Very well, but I have one last request of you.” Tsutomu didn’t answer, but Reon continued, “Eat dinner with the rest of us tonight.”

Tsutomu sighed, finally turning to look at him. “Ushijima put you up to that, didn’t he?”

“Actually, no,” Reon shook his head. “I think if you demanded to eat in your room until the end of your days he would acquiesce the request. He feels he owes you that much.”

“He owes me nothing,” Tsutomu retorted, not caring that Reon had done nothing to earn his ire. “Only the truth, which he should have told me five years ago.”

“What would you have done with that knowledge?”

“I don’t know! Maybe felt a little less alone!”

“Family is not always the people who share your blood,” Reon told him, holding out his hand to help him up. Tsutomu flinched away from the gesture, standing on his own and looking away with a frown.

“Easy to say when yours is still alive,” he snapped, brushing past Reon. “I’ll be at dinner. I’m not going to talk to anyone, though. Just… make sure he knows that.”

“As you wish.”

***

Tsutomu went down to the dining hall early to make sure he could secure the chair furthest from the head where Ushijima would sit. He knew it was insolent and immature, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. As far as he was concerned, until he was officially a grown man, he could continue to behave as a child, especially since so many in the house still insisted on treating him as such.

Ushijima took note of him when he entered but said nothing. Shirabu’s glare didn’t have the same fire behind it either, and Tsutomu almost wished he could have at least that back to normal. Taichi gave him a warm smile, but stopped himself before speaking, just settling in next to Tsutomu and bumping into him a few times until a reluctant smile tugged at Tsutome’s mouth. Reon had obviously told everyone to leave him be, and for that Tsutomu was grateful.

The conversation over dinner was no different than usual. Ushijima inquired after Taichi’s studies and seemed pleased with his progress, while Shirabu boasted that he felt Taichi would be given a high position once his training was complete, a sure mark of his excellent tutelage. Tsutomu rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

“My apologies,” Yamagata announced, entering the room halfway through the meal. “I was held up looking over responses from the remaining villages.”

“Have you received answers from all of them?” Ushijima asked, leaning forward in earnest.

Yamagata nodded, taking the food Reon offered him and spooning it into his mouth hastily. “The last few were quite vocal in their support and sent me multiple letters from several families with ancestors from the war. This is the compromise they’ve been desiring for the last few years.”

Shirabu sighed. “It’s about time. With the king coming in a week, we can begin preparations.”

Soekawa slammed his cup down with enough force to slosh half the wine out. “I still say _something_ else can be done!”

“I know you wished to see the forest spared,” Reon began, his voice calm. “But the villagers are starting to become nervous. After what happened in the cemetery, the only choice now is to burn it.”

“That forest has stood for centuries, possibly millenia!”

“They aren’t going to burn down the entire forest,” Shirabu interjected. “Just the parts that are too far gone to save.”

“At least be happy that we’ve gotten the entire territory to agree to the castle being demolished and the bones cremated to allow them a final rest,” Yamagata pleaded. “You’ve always talked about how the men deserve a proper rest. We have a proposition now that should please the king.”

“You’re doing what to the castle?” Tsutomu jumped out of his chair. “Did you say demolished?”

Silence overtook the room as every eye turned to stare at Tsutomu. He trembled, imagining what it would do to Tendou to have his forest destroyed. He thought of Eita, his bones turned to ash. They’d never find each other. Tendou would die without ever getting to see Eita again. 

Suddenly nothing else mattered. All of his worries, complaints, and anger. They mattered not.

“I have to go,” he said, shoving away from the table. “I don’t feel well.”

“Do you need me to -- ” Reon began, but Tsutomu shook his head. 

“I just need more rest,” he insisted. “Please continue dinner, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

He sped upstairs to his room, threw open the shutters and stared out at the valley. Traitors’ Grave stood in the distance, and he could feel Eita calling to him. Somewhere deep in his chest, his presence whispered to Tsutomu, begging him to get his bones to Tendou. A cool wind burst through the trees and slid across his skin. 

His hand went to his heart and he breathed deep, squaring his shoulders as though preparing himself for a long battle.

“I’m coming Eita,” he whispered. “Tonight.”

***

Tsutomu’s heart pounded as he stared up the high walls of Traitors’ Grave. Ace whickered nervously, stamping the ground and trying to lead them away. 

“S’okay.” He pulled her close, rubbing a comforting hand up her muzzle. “I’ll only be gone a bit, yeah? I’ve climbed higher than this.” He wasn’t sure who believed the lie less, given the way Ace snorted out a breath. 

The patch of forget me nots was a blue spot on a black and white canvas, calling to him. He ran his hands along the rough stone, looking for a spot to serve as his first handhold. The air grew cold around him as he began the climb, the wind brushing at his cheeks. 

Tsutomu could feel the stone wall rubbing his skin raw every time he grabbed ahold of a new piece. His cheek was scraped by the time he reached the halfway point, and the wound prickled with warning every time a breeze passed by. The energy around the castle seemed to press against him, making the difficult climb even moreso. He stopped to breathe, refusing to look down. His hands ached and he was certain he’d ripped a nail at some point in the climb, but he could not betray Tendou or Eita’s faith. 

Finally, his hand found the top of the wall and he pulled himself up, a cry of pain and victory as he finally swung over. 

The wind gusted as he watched the last light of sunset fade into the horizon. Dark clouds in the distance told him what he’d already feared when the air began to grow cold. A storm was fast approaching, he could see the faintest hint of lightning brimming in the clouds. There was no time to waste now. Climbing the wall when it was wet would prove to be a difficult task, if not an impossible one. He’d need to retrieve Eita and get himself back to the top before the rain came down. 

Swinging his legs over he braced his knees along the wall, once again finding foot and hand holds. His hands begged for a break, and he bit back a scream when he cracked the nail on his thumb while scrabbling for a hold on a loose stone. He stopped to take a breath and checked his surroundings. He was only halfway to bottom, but in a few feet he’d brace himself and let go, trusting that he could roll into the fall. He needed to save his hands for the second climb, and he’d jumped down from the barn rafters enough times. This was a landing he knew he could manage. Just a few more feet to go.

His foot slipped moments later, however, and he grabbed at the wall with both hands, trying desperately to keep hold as his other foot slipped away from the thin ledge he’d been using to hold himself. He yelled as his momentum slammed him forward into the wall, before finally sliding down. He lost his grip soon after and as he fell pulled his arm in to protect his head and neck, bracing for the impact.

A crack of thunder drowned out his screams as he felt the bone in his arm break. 

Tsutomu whimpered as he sat up, clutching his broken arm tenderly, tears streaming down his face. He cut away the sleeve and let out a whine seeing a bend in his forearm where one should not be. Soekawa’s lessons stirred in his memory and he fought through the pain and nausea in order to cut a length of cloth from the bottom of his cloak and make a sling. It was only after standing that he realized the pain on his side, too, and just as acute as the one in his arm. He gingerly felt along his ribs and bit back yet another cry at the tenderness, those were likely broken as well. 

He surveyed the empty castle yard, gasping for breath and fighting through the pain. He’d come this far, and could not give up.

Everywhere he could smell the stench of lingering death despite the decades since the Traitors’ War. Everywhere he could smell the stench of bodies left to rot because there was nowhere to bury them. 

Belatedly, he realized that he had no idea where Eita had been buried and it nearly undid him. He choked back a sob. The dream has ended before he could make that discovery, and he’d forgone dreams for days. He stood in the courtyard, desperately blinking away tears as the storm neared, another flash of lightning lighting up the area - and giving Tsutomu the first bought of luck.

A flash of blue caught his eye during the lightning’s flash, and he sprinted to the base of a long dead, bone white tree with forget me nots spreading from the base. 

He felt a warmth begin to grow in his chest as he approached the tree and knew _this_ was the place to dig. He wished not for the first time that he’d thought this plan through, however. He had no shovel, no rope, nothing to aid him in this quest.

Heart pounding, he reached into the dirt. A blaze of heat filled his chest and he gasped, wrapping his hand around something he hoped wasn’t just a root. The fire in his chest answered that question and he pulled up, staring wide eyed at the bone in his hand, knowing full well who he held. “Eita,” he whispered.

It was a struggle using only one arm, but every time he reached back into the earth he found a bone. The heat in his chest began to increase as he dug further and further, leaving him sweaty and exhausted as the air grew more and more humid, the storm threatening to break directly above his head. 

Soekawa’s lessons rang through his mind. “The body holds two hundred and six bones,” he’d explained. Tsutomu didn’t know if he had the time to gather them all, looking frantically at the sky while his arm and ribs pounded with pain.

“I don’t know if I can find all of you,” he muttered, taking a moment to breath, his chest growing hotter still. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain of the broken ribs causing the intense fire within him, but as he labored on the heat increased until finally it reached a full blown inferno as his hand grabbed what could only be a skull. Lifting it, he stared into the empty holes that had once been Eita’s eyes. 

Tsutomu smiled at him, broad and bright. “There you are.”

The coil of heat settled itself into the center of his chest, radiating fresh warmth and determination. Tstutomu knew without a doubt that, somehow, with the skull now in hand, he carried Eita’s spirit with him.

He wrapped Eita’s skull up alongside the rest of the bones he could gather into his cloak, tying the bundle so it could be cradled against his chest within the sling. Getting to his feet took more effort than he expected, and pain coursed through him. The pain became a distant worry, though as he remembered there was one last insurmountable step to take. 

_“And so the king declared the gate be bricked shut, all entrances blocked, so that no one could ever return.”_

Tsutomu sobbed. 

He’d never known fear until he looked into Tendou’s eyes and saw it there. Now he felt it deep in his heart. He was trapped. He couldn’t climb out, not with only one good arm, and especially not without leaving Eita behind. His hastiness to get to the castle was proving to be his undoing. No one at the manor would know where he had gone. 

Worse, Tsutomu could feel the sprinkling of rain on his face.

Hopeless grief set in, and he cried like a child without being able to stop it.

The forest would likely be torn down by Ushijima now, who would search for Tsutomu deep within its haunted trees, assuming that his ward - his _nephew_ \- had gotten lost. Tsutomu had not mentioned his interest in the castle once to anyone, specifically because it would be frowned upon that he even had a curiosity in it. And so now he was well served, with a broken arm that kept him trapped in a location that no one would think to look for him.

All had been for naught.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whimpered, head down, tears dropping onto the bundle. He looked up at the sky, black clouds swirled above him and the wind grew heavier. “I’m so sorry.”

He gazed to the sky, begging for an answer, hoping somehow, in all the mysteries of the world, something out there was listening. His voice grew hoarse from his entreaties and the heat in his chest stopped being a gentle warmth again, and soon burned through his entire body. 

He screamed from the force of it, his eyes and mouth lit up like a funeral pyre in a flash before a loud crack burst through the sky.

A single bolt of blue light shot from the clouds, striking the bricked up gate. 

Tsutomu breathed heavily in the wake of it, shivering and sobbing still. The empty feeling inside him and the taste of ash in his mouth was the only evidence he needed that Eita had used whatever was left of himself to give them an escape. He was gone, his spirit no longer lingering within the castle walls. 

Tsutomu wrapped his good arm around the bones and whispered tearful thank yous over and over again.

Eita and Tendou would be reunited again.

Tsutomu would see to it. 

As he stumbled out of the derelict castle, he found that Ace was gone, which wasn’t a surprise but was a frustration. His already slow progress would be slower still now. Nevertheless, Tsutomu slowly made his way down the road, chest aching with each trying breath. His steps became slower and slower, every movement causing more agony than he could ever remember experiencing in his life. Black dots kept appearing in his vision and he shook them away before the world went black as he fell to the ground, the manor finally within his view again.

***

_“Why has the carriage stopped?”_

_“There’s a boy in the road your majesty, he looks hurt and…”_

_“What is it, Makki?”_

_“A boy. He’s unconscious in the middle of the road. And he’s carrying bones, sire.”_

_“Bones?”_

_“Oh! My word! Isn’t that Ushijima’s ward?”_

_“It is! That’s the lord’s witch boy, Goshiki!”_

_“If he is Ushijima’s ward, he will join us in the carriage. Get him to the manor at once, I will not him die in the road while we questioned his reasons for being here.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original drafts for this fic did not have Oikawa in them beyond being mentioned as the king.
> 
> Oikawa was not happy about this and showed up at the end of this scene like he belonged there and I was forced to go along with it. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been keeping up, and to those of you who have just recently joined. I appreciate every single one of you. See you in two weeks for the conclusion.


	8. Silent in the Trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, where you stand  
> Silent, in the trees  
> And that's, where I am  
> Silent, in the trees  
> Why won't you speak?  
> Where I happen to be  
> Silent, in the trees  
> Standing cowardly  
> I can feel your breath, I can feel my death  
> I want to know you, I want to see, I want to say  
> [Hello](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5GOL8fHIvs)

Tsutomu’s head felt fuzzy again, but the fuzziness was accompanied by a soft warmth that filled his body. He attempted to move, but felt a hand rest firmly in the middle of his chest, pushing him back down onto the bed.

“Do _not_ ,” whispered Reon, his voice grave. “Do not open your eyes. I will tell you when it is alright to be awake. Trust me Tsutomu, you _must_ pretend to stay asleep.”

He remained still, heeding the worry in Reon’s voice, slowing his breathing to appear asleep as he listened to the voices in the infirmary. 

“I assure you, I have no idea what prompted the young man to do this,” Ushijima murmured with the weight of someone who had said it before and would say it as many time as necessary. “He has been in a state since we arrived here. We blamed it on the stories most of the villagers were saying about the woods. Furthermore, I suspected he went in there many times, despite the fact that I expressly forbade it.”

“He fell ill last week, and woke up with a nose bleed before having an episode that caused him to faint,” Reon added. “He was in and out of consciousness for days. Until recently he wasn’t even strong enough to move around the estate. There is _no way_ he shattered a brick wall in the state he was in.”

“The King does not think the boy broke the gate open. There’s enough evidence to show it was a result of the storm.” An unfamiliar voice joined the conversation. He sounded amused over the entire affair, as though he knew every card in everyone else’s hands. “Judging from his injuries, I say your ward climbed the walls. Sadly the rain washed away any evidence proving that. In fact, there is conveniently no evidence to prove the bones he was carrying came from Traitors’ Grave, except the broken gate, and even that could be argued against in court. There are other graves.”

“You cannot think anyone here put him up to this?” Ushijima’s calm demeanor was cracking, Tsutomu could hear it in his tone.

“Word is that your healer is from this village and has always been against Traitors’ Grave’s existence in this modern age. Ask anyone at court, they’ll tell you about Soekawa and his stance on the old king’s proclamation,” came another voice, a near match in smugness to the other. “You’ve got quite the conundrum on your hands, Ushiwaka.”

“I kindly ask you not refer to our lord with such a casual tone, sir,” Reon interrupted sharply. “He is the lord of this manor, and the territory you stand in. You are outranked here, despite your closeness to the king.”

“My word! I do believe I have gotten under the young healer’s skin, Issei.”

“Indeed, Takahiro,” came the first voice again, an obvious undercurrent of laughter present. “My Lord Ushijima, I apologize for my friend’s insolence. However, I must also ask that your young ward stop pretending to be asleep. We have some questions for him.”

The silence that fell in the wake of the man’s command remained even as Tsutomu slowly opened his eyes. His head was slowly losing the haze that had permeated his early awakening and he could feel a great deal of pain licking at the edges of his consciousness, kept at bay for now. Reon must have given him something.

He tried sitting up, but realized he only had one functioning arm. Reon put a hand behind his back, helping him sit up as Tsutomu continued to stare at the splint on his arm.

“I broke my arm,” he said, slowly remembering what had happened. “I - oh.” He looked at the others and bit his lip. Reon rested a reassuring hand on his uninjured arm, protective of his patient for all their ruse had been discovered. 

Ushijima faced off against two other men, one of whom had rose tinted hair and an expression of someone who never stopped laughing, the other of whom had black hair, and oversized brows that made him look like he was dissecting everything he gazed upon. 

“Tsutomu Goshiki,” the rose-haired man said. “I am Takahiro Hanamaki, and this is Issei Matsukawa. We are his majesty's eyes and ears. Do you know what that means?”

Tsutomu nodded. The king had named his three childhood companions to high positions within his court the instant he’d ascended to the throne. At the court they were simply known as seneschals, empty titles hiding the true nature of their dealings. Well, hiding the true nature to those stupid enough to believe the king would award positions of power who anyone who did not merit them, even a friend. In truth, Hanamaki and Matsukawa were the eyes and ears of the king, meant to uncover any and all plots against the crown, and to use all information they gained in an effort to help his majesty govern. 

“Good, so we don’t have to explain,” Hanamaki began. “You were found in the middle of the road leading from Traitors’ Grave to Shira Village with a sack of bones on your person.”

“According to the healer,” Matsukawa added, eyes trained on Reon. “You have a broken arm and your ribs are bruised, possibly fractured. These injuries are consistent with a fall.”

“You have no proof of that,” Reon muttered, as he stayed at Tsutomu’s side. His fingers clenched in the blanket every time the Eyes or Ears spoke.

“The front gate at Traitors’ Grave was struck by lightning yesterday evening, and the rain has washed away any evidence of any person being within the walls,” Hanamaki continued, as though there had been no interruption. “You are known as an excellent climber, are you not, Goshiki?”

Tsutomu looked to Ushijima, to Reon and then back to the two men. They were asking if he had taken Eita from the ground. The punishment for such an act was death, there was no way around that. He’d broken a decree of the king, scaled a castle wall, robbed a grave, and attempted to leave with the bones of a condemned man.

“I must object to this,” Ushijima interrupted. “Can you not see he is ill?”

“He looks injured, not ill, my lord,” Hanamaki tersely replied. “Do you need to be escorted from the room? We can always question him elsewhere. Perhaps somewhere not as comfortable if you continue to inhibit our work.”

“You will do no such thing.” Ushijima strode towards the man, and Matsukawa moved immediately to stand in front of his partner, a dagger appearing in his palm. 

“Are you threatening an agent of the King?”

Ushijima’s eyes flashed, and Tsutomu remembered that Ushijima was, even now, a warrior. He would take on the king’s Eyes and Ears on the slightest chance it might save his ward.

Save his _nephew_.

“I did it!” Tsutomu blurted out, unwilling to see Ushijima punished for his own actions. It was time and past he confessed. “I climbed the walls.”

“Tsutomu,” Reon began, a hand resting on his shoulder. Tsutomu shook him off.

“I did it to save the forest. It's not a demon, it’s the guardian. He’s - the guardian is sick. I saw him when I went into the woods, I know I shouldn’t have gone, but then he had my locket and we talked and he told me - it’s not his fault! Please don’t burn it down, it’ll - all he needs are the bones. His heart was broken and the bones are the only thing that can save him. Please believe me. Please.” The words poured from Tsutomu, who shook with the fear that he might be condemned, and with him, Tendou and Eita.

“My, that is an interesting story,” a light and sharp voice rang out from the doorway to the infirmary. Leaning against the frame was a tall, finely dressed man. His chestnut hair shone in the low candlelight, and his smile looked like it could cut through steel, but it didn’t meet his eyes. 

All heads in the room immediately lowered and there was a murmuring of “Your Majesty,” from each of them. Tsutomu kept his gaze lowered until he felt a weight on his bed. He looked up to see the king staring at him intently. 

When the king caught his eye, his smile widened a little. “Do you remember me, Tsutomu? It was many years ago when we met.”

“I do, Your Majesty,” Tsutomu replied, averting his eyes from King Tooru Oikawa’s. Another man entered the infirmary as Tsutomu spoke, and gestured for everyone else to leave. Tsutomu recognized him as Iwaizumi, the king’s personal guard and rumored paramour.

“Ushiwaka may stay,” King Oikawa called out, hands folded in front of him. “It is his right as the boy’s guardian. Unless, of course, you wish him to leave. Tsutomu?”

Tsutomu shook his head, eyes downcast. The king's fingers were long and several of them were bedecked with gold rings, most of them studded with blue jewels. One of those hands came towards him and lifted his chin so he was forced to look at the king directly.

“Tell me about the forest.” His once cold gaze now held a soft warmth. “From the beginning, and properly, none of that incomprehensible gibberish. Why is it dying?”

Despite the sharpness of the words, the king seemed in the mood to listen. Taking a deep breath, Tsutomu recited the entire story for the king. Only leaving out the fact that he’d learned within his dreams that Eita was a distant relative, and Ushijima a close one. All of it culminated in his last memories of his steps down the road, his great need to see Eita returned to his love. 

King Oikawa listened intently, his eyes widening at all the correct moments, nodding even as the story grew more and more fantastical. He gasped when Tsutomu spoke of his fall, clutched his hand to his chest when the lightning bolt struck the castle gate, and then put a reassuring hand on Tsutomu’s shoulder when he talked of blacking out on the highway.

By the end of his story, King Oikawa had gone from sitting on the edge of his bed, to the middle, his legs folded together, chin on his hands as he listened intently. He looked more the raptured child hearing an entertaining tale than the king of this land, with the power to see Tsutomu and everyone he loved killed. 

Ushijima watched the entire affair with a pained look on his face. Tsutomu could tell he didn’t believe even half of his story, the other half he likely believed to be a bout of hysteria brought on by whatever plagued the forest. He saw a similar gaze on the face of Iwaizumi, a stern man with a hard jaw and a hard gaze, that softened however briefly when the king’s gaze would meet his.

“Ushikwaka wishes to name you his heir,” Oikawa observed. Tsutomu wasn’t surprised. The king had too dangerous a reputation to be unaware of what his lords and ladies did, and his carefree smile and warm gaze was fading along with the magic of the story. “This puts me in an awkward position. It is known to me who you are, Tsutomu Goshiki. You are the illegitimate son of one Lord Tsutomu Ushijima and Kaiya Goshiki.”

Goshiki watched as Ushijima paled at the king’s declaration. All he had done to keep this one secret under wraps was for nought. The king already knew, and from the sounds of it, had always known.

“What am I to do,” he asked, two fingers stroking his chin. “If I allow you to return the bones to the trees and nothing happens, that leaves me in an unfortunate position. Do I allow you, a bastard boy, to be named the next lord of an already troubled territory? Or do I execute you for breaking the decree set down by my great grandfather as a lesson to those who would challenge the crown? Not to mention the trees will continue to die, and poison the rest of the forest with them.”

“You would see him treated for whatever ails him, as is deserving of the rightful heir to the Ushijima lineage,” came a soft voice. Shirabu stood in the doorway, skin pale, dark circles under his normally bright and shrewd eyes. “He’s not a bastard.”

Shirabu entered the room and handed a sealed scroll to the king, his head bowed. “I was a witness to the marriage of Tsutomu Ushijima to Kaiya Goshiki. It was legally binding, and occured before the birth of their son.”

“Kenjirou,” Ushijima whispered in disbelief. “How could you keep this from me?”

“He threw everything away,” Shirabu said, voice soft and broken by tears. “He gave it all up for her, and I never understood why. Why was he so willing to turn his back on _everything_ , I wondered. I had been his constant companion, I had aided him whenever and wherever he could, and he choose to go behind everyone’s back and…” Shirabu blew out a breath and looked away. “And I hated him for it. I hated him for the shame he brought to the family. For making me stand there as a witness to him willingly turning his back on his duties, family, all of it.”

He looked to Tsutomu, eyes brimming with tears. “When they were found out, Kaiya was threatened. Lady Ushijima told her she’d see her burned for dark magic, for bewitching her son into loving her. Tsutomu accepted the title of major in the army in hopes that by bringing victory to the kingdom, that he could stop the annulment of his marriage from happening. His death prevented that. Lady Ushijima said she’d see my entire family put to death if I ever spoke a word to anyone about it.”

Ushijima strode forward and pulled Shirabu to him in a tight embrace. Tsutomu could hear him weeping as he mumbled a thousand apologies. The secret he’d kept locked inside him, poisoning him for fifteen years, was finally gone. He looked years younger in an instant, complete with bloodshot eyes and dribbling nose.

“Well, that settles it then,” King Oikawa declared, handing off the still-sealed scroll to his guard. His smile returned as he took Tsutomu’s hands into his own. “Tomorrow, or the next day if you are feeling up to it, you are going to return our dear Eita to… Tendou, was it?”

Tsutomu nodded, unsure if he was hallucinating. King Oikawa had listened to Shirabu’s tearful confession and took it at complete face value. Ushijima stared at the king open mouthed, disbelief painted on his face.

“Wakatoshi,” King Oikawa chided. “will the transgressions of my youth ever be forgotten? Surely you have forgiven me?”

“I was under the assumption that _you_ had not forgiven _me_.”

“If I had not forgiven you, then why did I entrust you with rebuilding this territory?” He inquired, a sly smile on his face. “Was it not clear from the start that in granting you a lordship and this territory, I was displaying my utmost faith in your capabilities, and displaying my trust in you as a vassal?”

“I’m afraid many rumors spread amongst the court that would have led me to believe otherwise.”

King Oikawa tutted and turned to Tsutomu. He brushed his fingers through his hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Wakatoshi, believing in falsehoods and rumors is below a man of your station. Know that when I lay down a decree, a promise, or a title; I give it only after having given it all due considerations. I am not the king my father was, or the one my grandfather was.”

With that, the king exited the room, pausing in the doorway to turn back. “From one witch boy to another,” he said, eyes meeting Tsutomu’s with a sudden, sharp, and completely genuine smile. “I truly hope to see a blessing of the fae upon you.”

***

_“Come with me into the trees….”_

_Tsutomu runs through the forest chasing Tendou’s voice, but every which way he turns Tendou’s voice grows louder and then fades away, before echoing in another spot of the trees. Eita’s bones weigh heavily in his arms, and he nearly drops them turning too fast when Tendou’s voice disappears from the direction he’s running towards._

_“I have Eita! I found him!” he yells into the expanse of the wood, hoping it will pause Tendou in his incessant roaming._

_“It's too late,” echoes a voice back. “He died, we were too late.”_

_The bag is gone from his hands in a blink of an eye. Eita stands before him, skin paperwhite, brittle like the bark on the trees. His eyes meet Tsutomu’s, and they are empty black pools._

_“Stripped to the bone.” He extends his hand weakly before collapsing into a pile of dust. All around Tsutomu the forest screams in agony and crumbles to ash. He chokes on the air itself, collapsing under the weight of the smell of death, crawling desperately trying to escape, until all he can see is black, and all he can feel is grief._

***

Tsutomu awoke with a start, sucking in a breath of clean air. The earliest rays of sunrise peeked through the windows of the infirmary. 

“You’re awake, then,” Soekawa murmured from a chair in the corner. “You saw it too?”

“Is he gone?” Tsutomu asked, scrambling out of bed to see if the forest still stood. He sighed in relief at seeing the white trees still standing, swaying softly in the early morning breeze. “I thought for sure I would see nothing but dust.”

“He doesn’t have much time,” Soekawa intoned ominously. “You should go now. Before the rest of the house wakes up. He won’t make it if you don’t.”

“But where is Eita?” 

Soekawa smiled and pulled out a silk bag from underneath his chair. “My great grandmother lost three children before they could be born. She was convinced she’d been cursed. Kaiya Semi ensured her fourth made it. She’d even gone so far as to stay with the family during the last three months, to be there at her side if anything went wrong.” He spoke the words to the bones in his hands, tenderly running his hands over the silk. “Consider this a way of giving gratitude, for I owe my existence to your family.”

He held out the bag to Tsutomu, eyes brimming with tears. Tsutomu, rushed forward and wrapped his arms around the old man. 

“I kept searching for a family after my mother died. I thought I would be alone forever,” Tsutomu said, letting a few tears of his own escape. “I should have realized that I had one. You’ve been so much more than just a healer and a teacher to me, Soekawa.”

“Tsutomu,” Soekawa sighed, squeezing the boy tight to him. “You have always been family to me, too. Never forget that.”

They left the manor together out of a side door and walked out to the edge of the tree line. Tsutomu looked back to the manor and wondered how long it would be before their absence was noted. The sun began to creep over the horizon, painting the sky a dazzling rainbow.

“Ushijima would never have let me do this,” Tsutomu said. He could tell from the stony face Ushijima wore throughout his story the night before that he had long since convinced himself that Tsutomu was simply sick from some terrible disease from the trees. “He doesn’t believe in magic the way you and I do.”

“He doesn’t have it flowing in his veins as we do, my boy,” Soekawa defended, as always. “It’s not in Wakatoshi’s nature to ascribe to the idea of magic. If we waited, he and the king would have argued for at least a day or two while you remained in the infirmary, both of us suffering through the nightmares.”

“Were you having them this whole time, too?”

Soekawa sighed. “Not to the extent that you were. Witch blood is fickle after all, especially through the male line. I have none of the powers of my grandmother, yet my father did. I dreamt of the trees dying most nights, and they called out to me, begging me to come save them, but I rarely remembered the dreams well enough to be aware of more than the uneasiness. Even with you telling us all of your own dreams, it didn’t stir my own until more recently.”

“Do you think I will survive this?” Tsutomu had wondered if in the end this was all a trick. If the dreams, the feelings, even Tendou himself were all some elaborate trap ministrated to see him taken and his heart sacrificed to ensure the forest continued on. “What if we’ve both been tricked?”

“I feel it in my bones that the guardian is a benevolent spirit. He would never allow something to happen to anyone who came through his woods. At most, he was simply a trickster, who scared away those who would do harm. You will be as safe there as you would have been staying in your own bed.”

He placed his hand on Tsutomu’s shoulder, giving him one last squeeze before pushing him forward. Tsutomu took a deep breath, closed his eyes and crossed the threshold of the forest. The gentle breeze from before seemed to follow him, tickling across his cheeks and down his neck, making him both laugh and at times shudder. 

Distantly he heard Ushijima’s voice echoing from the manor. Calling out his name in a frenzy. He heard the shouts of others pulling him back, begging him to remain. Tsutomu wished he could actually be there to see the look on Ushijima’s face. To see something other than stoic crossing the man’s features. It nearly gladdened him to think that truly Ushijima did care, even if he never quite showed it in the way Tsutomu would have liked.

A familiar flash of silver and the reflection of his gaze in mirrored trees signalled the entrance to Tendou’s realm. The mirrored trees seemed dull now, as though covered in a fine dust and Tsutomu’s senses were flooded with the now-familiar stench of death. He sprinted forward, breaking through the barrier, and skidded to a stop only when he found Tendou sitting in the middle of his clearing, a single beam of sunlight breaking through the trees to shine down on him. The slightest of smiles crossed his gaunt face.

“I knew my magic wasn't strong enough to last,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t have come. I didn’t want you to watch me…” his voice trailed off as he opened his eyes and took in the sight of Tsutomu. “Die.”

His eyes looked up and down Tsutomu’s person, from his broken arm, to his scraped cheek, and then with wide eyed realization at the bundle in his arms. “Did you...?”

“I found him,” Tsutomu breathed, fighting back the urge to cry at the relief of finding Tendou still alive. “I found Eita.”

He held out the bag of bones to Tendou, tears streaming down his face. Tendou managed to walk towards him, his steps slow and measured, each one causing his joints to creak horribly. Ignoring the bag, he pulled Tsutomu to him in a tender embrace, clutching him tight to his chest. Tsutomu could hear the dual tempo of his hearts beating, the rattle of his lungs as they struggled to breath, and felt the shudder of his entire body as he cried.

“I don't know if it will save you or the trees,” Tsutomu said with an attempt at a smile. “But I'm hoping if anything, it makes your death easier having him beside you.”

Tendou nodded, black tears staining his cheeks. He lifted his hand to Tsutomu’s face and brushed his thumb over the scrape. Tsutomu felt a cool sensation over his flesh and the sting of the injury faded away. He put his hand to his cheek and found the skin there perfectly healed. 

“About all I had left in me, I think.” Tendou shrugged. “It’s less than you deserve as thanks for this, but it is all I can offer. Death seems a little less frightening now that he will be beside me.”

“I don’t want you to die, though,” Tsutomu sobbed. “If I had gone sooner, maybe I could have saved you.”

Tendou shook his head and wiped the tears away from Tsutomu’s cheeks. “Do not dwell on the what ifs, the maybes, or the shoulds. What is important is the _now_. I’m glad you are here. I realized as the end came that I didn’t want to die alone.”

Tsutomu nodded, sobbing as he and Tendou walked towards the bier, that he now realized had always been for Tendou, never the lost love he spoke of. Tendou had long since stopped believing that Eita would ever lay beside him again. Camellias and forget me nots bloomed in excess along the sides of the bier, and moss had grown within to make a bed to lay on. Now that he had Eita with him again, however, Tendou tenderly removed each bone from the bag and laid them out, finally removing at last the skull. He held it to his chest and sobbed, “Hello at last, my love.”

Tendou sat on the edge of the bier and laid Eita’s skull where he would soon lay his own head to rest. He leaned down to kiss the forehead, jumping back when it shattered, dust swirling into the air. Tsutomu gasped and Tendou looked up to him, his gaze mournful, one last thing to break his heart before it was over.

Tendou froze suddenly, his chest shuddered violently, a bright green light emanating through his paper thin skin. Tsutomu rushed forward but Tendou raised a hand to stop him, choking out a cry of, “ _No_!”. 

A gust of wind blew through the clearing, knocking Tsutomu to the ground as it swirled dust and debris all around him. Tendou let out a wordless scream as the light burst from his chest, and a loud drum echoed around them, the staccato of a heart beating rapidly. Finally, the wind stopped, and Tsutomu was able to open his eyes. 

Tendou knelt at the edge of the beir, struggling to breathe as his hand reached out to the body that lay in front of him.

Eita’s eyes opened and he sucked in his first breath of air in a century. Tsutomu couldn’t help but stare at the newly arisen fae. His hair was silver, tipped with hints of the black it been when he lived. A tree branch crown grew from his temples, blooming with bright blue forget me nots. He climbed out of the bier and pulled Tendou close, blinking away tears and looking up at him with nothing but love in his gaze.

“Hello,” he whispered, running a tender touch over Tendou’s cheeks. “My prince.”

“Hardly a prince anymore, my love,” Tendou choked out, leaning into Eita’s touch. “But still yours. Always. If you will have me, even like this.”

Eita stood up onto his tiptoes and brought Tendou’s lips to his own. Tsutomu turned away out of respect, but was also forced to shield his eyes from the sudden flash of light that burst around the two fae. 

When it disappeared he chanced a look again and saw Tendou standing tall, health returned to his body, camellia’s blooming in his hair, his cheeks full of life, his limbs no longer skeletal. The king of the forest, whole and healthy again.

“How?” Tendou asked, refusing to look away or let go of Eita. The joy and delight in his eyes made Tsutomu’s chest ache. 

Eita smiled and put a hand over Tendou’s heart. “The forest sought a new vessel and through some _very interesting_ means, brought me to you.” He placed a hand over his own heart. “I’m the new guardian of the forest, and you are my king.”

“I’m not worthy of such a title,” Tendou said, nosing Eita’s forehead. “But I will strive to become worthy.”

“We have a lifetime for that, my love.”

Eita’s smile was then turned towards Tsutomu. “Hello.” he held out a hand and Tsutomu ran to him, slamming his body into Eita’s without a care that he might topple them over. Eita laughed. “You did it.”

“I had to, we’re family!”

“We are,” Eita agreed, voice quiet and warm. “I am so proud of you Tsutomu. But there is one thing that needs to be done.”

He lifted Tsutomu’s chin and tutted over the state of him before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Tsutomu felt as though a warm bucket of water had been dumped on his head. The heat spread through his entire body and when he opened his eyes his arm was healed, his chest as well, and every ache he had felt over the last three weeks had vanished. 

“Is the forest saved?” Tsutomu asked, not caring that he had been healed. It was nothing in the face of reuniting the lost lovers and saving the trees. A side effect he was sure of the forest drawing him to the solution to its salvation.

“See for yourself,” Eita replied with a smile. “It’s time for you to go home. You’ve done everything needed. Best to not linger. You _do_ have a life outside of these trees.”

“Can I come back?”

Tendou and Eita looked at one another. “One day the trees will call to you. On that day, come here with nothing, save one person who you want to share the magic with. Come with nothing, and in the end you will have everything,” Tendou said, plucking a single camellia from his branches and handing it to Tsutomu. “My eternal thanks to you always Tsutomu. You did more than save my forest, you saved me.”

“You saved _us_ ,” Eita added, leaning his head against Tendou’s chest, a soft smile crossing his face. 

Birds chirped as Tsutomu walked back through the trees towards the manor. He could hear so many different ones calling out to each other. He hoped they were marveling at the life that had returned, crying out to each other in joy that the forest could be their home again. A few squirrels darted in front of him as he walked, stopping to look at him with wide eyes before taking off again. He caught the glimpse of a herd of deer walking through the trees, all of the pausing to look at him as if they knew what he had done. 

Waiting at the tree line was Ushijima, Soekawa and the king. 

They stared at the trees and then at Tsutomu as he walked towards them. Tsutomu turned back to the forest and smiled at the tiniest hints of leaves beginning to grow from the branches of the once dead trees. Eita and Tendou would restore this forest to its true glory.

He turned back to King Oikawa and knelt at his feet, holding out the camellia that had been gifted to him by the fae king.

“The forest is saved, Your Majesty,” Tsutomu said.

King Oikawa took Tsutomu’s hands and helped him stand, folding his fingers gently over the flower. “A boon is yours,” he said with a smile. “As is my gratitude. You’re going to be a very good lord Tsutomu, I can see it already.”

“Tsutomu,” Ushijima whispered, drawing Tsutomu’s attention to him. Years of unspoken words were in his eyes. “I…”

Tsutomu ran to his uncle and threw his arms around him, burying his face in the man’s shoulder. “I forgive you, Uncle Toshi, I forgive you, and I love you.”

“Well, nephew,” Ushijima said gravely, but his arms around Tsutomu were gentle and warm. “Let’s go home. Your family awaits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crying you're crying!!!
> 
> I want to take a moment to thank the 3 people who made this fic possible. Cas, Snow and Rosa.  
> There is not enough time for me to even begin to express my gratitude to you.
> 
> To all the people who commented, thank you, truly thank you for supporting this fic. It means so much to me.
> 
> If you wanna come scream at me, [my tumblr is always open](http://quinnlocke.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> I still can’t believe I am publishing this fic. It has been a brain child of mine since August last year and had been intended to be a Bokuaka fic with Tensemi as a side pairing. But the more I tried to write the story the more I realized the hero of this fic needed to be someone else. This fic belonged to Shiratorizawa and Goshiki immediately raised his hand begging for the chance to shine.
> 
> Updates will be every other Thursday, thank you so much for reading.


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